


Beast of Burden

by melancholymango



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Domestic Boyfriends, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Keith (Voltron) is Horny, Knotting, Lance (Voltron) is a Kinky Fuck, Lance fucks Keith after he's transformed, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Monsterfucker Lance (Voltron), Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Top Keith (Voltron), Van Helsing Style Werewolves, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 15:11:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholymango/pseuds/melancholymango
Summary: “Keith, no, we can’t go again.” Lance pleads fall on deaf ears. Keith is honed in on him now like predator to prey. He’s fighting a losing battle and they both know it. He sees it in the way Keith is raking his eyes over him, sizing him up. “We’ll be so late getting to the bar.”“Just one more.” Keith insists, herding Lance toward the counter with a stubbornness that is innately wolf. Lance pouts, but he doesn't have anywhere else to go but backward.“That’s what you said last time! And the time before that!”--The week leading up to a supermoon, as told by the world's best werewolf boyfriend, Lance McClain. The good, the bad, and the horny.





	Beast of Burden

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, sluts! In the spirit of the holiday I've decided to write the monsterfucking bullshit I would want to read and not be ashamed of it. THAT BEING SAID, I acknowledge that not everyone wants to fuck monsters so please be mindful of the tags and if it's not something you're into, don't read!!

See, Lance is pretty sure he’s the most kickass boyfriend a werewolf could ask for. He’s only been dating Keith for about seven months, and only three of those has he actually known about the fact he’s dating a boy of the lycanthrope variety, but since finding out about it he’s been a very quick learner.

Well, in all honesty, he kind-of _had_ to be. It was either run from the unknown or embrace it, and Lance cared about Keith far too much to do the former.

The first few months of their relationship, Keith had completely removed himself from Lance’s life the entire week each time a full moon would come along. He’d been discreet about it, making up excuses about going out of town to visit family, or camping trips with friends. Lance hadn’t put any thought into it at the time, especially because Keith spent most of his absence texting Lance about how much he missed him. It just seemed… normal.

He’d had no idea that Keith was out preparing to transform every time.

It was really an accident that he ever learnt otherwise in the first place. Keith had given him a spare key to his apartment and Lance, being the caring kind of person he was, had decided to come over and make him dinner to welcome him back. He was expecting Keith to walk through the door with an unshaved face and a lumberjack-style checkered shirt, lots of stories about his camping trip to share. Instead, Keith stumbled through the door with a bear trap on his leg and a shredded shirt clinging to his chest.

A pair of bolt cutters and a lot of reassurances that Keith healed fast enough that a trip to the hospital was unwarranted later, Lance came to accept his new reality.

Like anything in life, it got easier to deal with with time. Keith started to let him in, telling him more about the specifics of his condition, and even staying close during the week of. Lance got to witness first-hand what Keith had been trying to hide from him. He definitely changed in the days leading up to a full moon. He became more intense, instinct-driven, unsettlingly passionate about anything and everything he put his mind to.

He was hungry all the time, his appetite quite literally wolfish. It took Lance some trial and error to figure out how to deal with it. He’d started by making Keith delicious, lovingly-prepared, homemade full-course meals. He spent whole days slaving over the stove and cooking them. Only for Keith to pick them over and refuse to eat half of it. That irked Lance a little bit, until he noticed the very obvious pattern. Each time, Keith was eating the meat and barely touching anything else. From then on, Lance only bothered to cook him meat, and he always ate everything he was offered. Eventually, Lance even caught on to the quirk that Keith would actually like it _more_ the _less_ he cooked it (gross).

Keith was also undoubtedly more high-strung and emotional. When Lance had first met him, he’d made the mistake of assuming Keith just wasn’t an emotional person. With time, he’d learnt that Keith was just insecure and uncomfortable expressing emotions, but he definitely still had them. And after experiencing Keith the week of the full-moon, it was clear Keith had more emotions than Lance could ever dream of having. Lance learned to deal with this by bringing the coziest of blankets over to Keith’s house, forcing him to watch through a stack of rom-coms he’d never be caught dead watching otherwise, and then snuggling up to him.

He was also more aggressive, assertive, and physical. In the sense that he would posture against anyone willing to challenge him and Lance had to drag him away before he inevitably beat them into the ground they stood on. _And..._ in the sense that he was just fucking _horny_ . He grew more and more dominant the closer they got to the end of the week. Lance didn’t really have to do anything here, other than lie back and take whatever Keith was so intent on giving him (really, this one hardly seemed like a chore at all, if Lance knew all he had to do to get fucked like _that_ was bone a werewolf… _well_ ).

Keith was insistent that he wasn’t actually dangerous, claiming that even on the night of the full moon he still had enough sense about him to know not to hurt someone he cared about. Lance believed him more the more he saw of Keith during these weeks. It was just Keith, but amped up to the highest degree.

Each month, Keith still politely asked Lance to give him space a couple days before the full moon and Lance would always respect his wishes. He could only assume all of those things he’d noticed would intensify tenfold that last day or two. He understood why Keith would maybe be hesitant to show him that side of himself, even if there wasn’t any real risk involved.

And sure, there were setbacks too, like Lance referring to Keith’s monthly changes as his “pre-moon syndrome” (PMS). Or, when Lance suggested Keith use dog shampoo instead of normal human shampoo, because it was cheaper and his hair felt like a Border Collie’s anyway. Oh, and that one time Lance bought a butt-plug with a fluffy wolf’s tail attached, thinking Keith would get a kick out of undressing him and finding it between his legs.

…. In hindsight, maybe some of those things _had_ been poor judgment on Lance’s part

\--

In the back of his mind, Lance knows that he shouldn’t be pulling off the highway an exit too early for his usual route home. He has frozen groceries in the backseat threatening to melt, a package being delivered soon that he really can’t miss, and above all of that… he’s trying not to be _that_ guy.

He’s been told by pretty much every ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend he’s ever had that he’s _clingy_. He has a tendency to hover, especially so when someone he cares about is hurt, sick, or otherwise struggling. He likes to take care of people… an annoying amount, as many would say.

So Lance is trying really hard to keep his distance, to keep himself from smothering.

It’s just, well, Keith has never explicitly _told him_ that he minds it. In fact, he’s always seemed pretty thankful whenever Lance goes out of his way for him, especially this time of the month. There’s seven full days left before their fourth full moon together and already Lance has been seeing a change in his boyfriend, which is unusual. He chocks it up to knowing what to look for now, but he can’t shake the feeling that the symptoms seem a little bit… intense, for how far away the big night is.

Lance pulls into the garage that Keith works at and marches up to the front desk, trying and failing to ignore the warning alarms in his head when the guy at the front desk refers to him by name like he’s a familiar face there. He’s definitely doing it again, coming on too strong and being the person that always cares more.

He finds Keith in his usual corner of the shop, on his back underneath some rusty car that’s probably older than either of them. He kneels next to where Keith is working, smirking at the mismatched shoes on his boyfriend’s feet, two entirely different pairs of boots. It’s a wonder how he managed to take care of himself at all before Lance came along, really.

He doesn’t even get the chance to announce his presence before Keith notices on his own, either by sense of smell or hearing he’d never know. Either way, his boyfriend grabs on to the underneath of the car and pushes himself out from under it with some force, the wheels of the creeper he’s laying on squeaking loudly with the movement.

“Hey.” Lance laughs, as he watches Keith sit up and try to wipe the grease from his face. The shirt he’s wearing is absolutely ruined, dark patches of black and brown smeared all across what was once a solid pink fabric. Actually... Lance is pretty sure that was _his_ shirt at one point. Damn it, Keith.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks, a smile stretched wide across his face. He does look genuinely happy to see Lance there, no one could really argue against that. It’s like a switch has been flicked, the quiet and brooding guy that barely talks to any of his co-workers gone, replaced by the brightest eyes and biggest grin. His gaze doesn’t leave Lance’s face even as he wipes his hands off on a throwaway rag, like he can’t bring himself to miss a single moment they have together.

Lance blushes, averting his eyes.

“Guess I missed you or something.” He mumbles, wringing his hands together. Keith hums knowingly, rolling a little bit closer so he can reach for Lance’s hand. He threads their fingers together and squeezes their interlocked hands, lifting them to kiss across Lance’s knuckles. It’s almost laughable, how his clean and freshly-manicured hands look next to Keith’s bruised, battered, and grease-covered ones.

“Well, good thing, I was just starting to miss you too.” Keith muses, the corner of his lips quirking upward into a telling little smirk. Lance shakes his head, getting to his feet and attempting to drag Keith up with him by the grip of their hands. With a little bit of difficulty because Keith is childishly refusing to help him and drawing the attention of everyone else in the room, Lance finally manages to get Keith standing too.

He leans in close, pressing a fleeting kiss to Keith’s lips.

“Can I steal you for a second?” Lance asks, still close enough that he can feel their breath mingling. Keith nods his head, wordlessly shifting to wrap an arm around Lance’s middle and lead him toward the parking lot.

Keith’s co-workers watch as they go, ten pairs of beady eyes. Lance figures they’re probably the rough and tough homophobic type, but they know to keep to themselves at least. Once or twice, some of the new hires had made the mistake of commenting on his and Keith’s relationship, and that didn’t end well for them. Anyone who’s been working there for any amount of time knows better than to say anything when Keith’s around now.

All of Lance’s earlier anxieties are already starting to melt away, the steady reassurance of having Keith near making it all seem a little ridiculous. Obviously Keith is happy to have him there. He’s nothing like any of Lance’s exes, it’d be stupid to compare them.

Keith is honest. A good guy. He gives just as much as he takes.

And he loves Lance. _Really_ loves him.

Keith climbs into the passenger seat of Lance’s tiny hatchback, curling up on the seat and staring over at Lance with fond look. Lance smiles back at him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.” Keith answers quickly, like he’d been just waiting to bring it up. Lance has to admit, the answer catches him off-guard the slightest bit. Keith goes on to explain more, like _that’s_ enough to will away the shock on Lance’s features. “I ate my lunch earlier in the bathroom. I couldn’t wait. It was really good, though.”

“I packed you five steaks _and_ three sandwiches.” Lance deadpans. Keith stares unblinkingly back at him, like he’s failing to see the insanity behind the statement. “I’m pretty sure there was a pizza slice too?”

“What do you _want_ me to say? I can’t help it.”

“No, I know that.” Lance laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I just thought that’d be enough to get you through the day and then some. That’s more food than I’ve ever had to pack before and there’s still a week until the full moon.”

As expected, Keith starts to squirm around in his seat. He turns, staring into the backseat where grocery bags are piled one on top of the each other, full of enough food to fill their cupboards for another week or two at most. Keith hums curiously, glancing back at Lance.

“Do you have anything in your car for me?”

“Yeah, I was just out buying groceries. Gotta stock up for the next week, especially if you’re gonna be like this the whole time.” Lance explains, reaching back and beginning to sift through everything he’d spent the day buying. “Come on, help me find something for you.”

A minute or two passes before predictably, Keith finds something that he wants.

“ _Lance_.”

Lance knows that pleading voice, recognizes that telling quiver to Keith’s bottom lip. It comes as no surprise at all to find a packaged meat in Keith’s hands, a bright disgusting shade of red. Lance chokes on his own saliva.

“No. It’s not happening. I have _some_ standards.” Lance insists stubbornly, re-opening an argument he’d tried desperately to close so many times before. He reaches over, snatching the package out of Keith’s hands with a huff. “You’re _not_ eating a bloody, raw, slab of meat in my car.”

“I’ll eat it outside.” Keith pleads, leaning across the center-console of the car to pepper Lance’s face in kisses. It’s a very good distraction, but that doesn’t change what it is. Lance is wise to his tricks now and easily keeps the uncooked steak far out of reach.

“No.” Lance repeats himself, though his giggles definitely takeaway from how serious he really is. Keith is pouting at him now, that annoyingly cute little jut of his bottom lip outward. It’d be barely noticeable to anyone else, but Lance is so used to seeing it he’s painstakingly aware. Still, he refuses to give in, tossing it into the backseat and grabbing another random bag instead. “You’ll wait until it’s cooked at least a little bit. In the meantime, here’s a whole box of granola bars and a package of pre-cooked bacon. Go wild.”

“Thanks.” Keith sighs, ripping open a granola bar and biting into it. He eats through five of them before he even starts to slow down. It’s a little bit unsettling, how he eats them in three bites or less without even stopping to chew. Sort-of like watching a trainwreck, Lance can’t tear his eyes away from the scene. Keith catches his gaze and shoves a whole granola bar into his mouth unbitten, as if to prove a point.

Lance nearly gags. As it is, he reaches over to punch Keith in the arm.

“Chew, you animal!”

“But it’s so funny watching you freak out!” Keith chuckles around a mouthful of food, grinning so hard that tears are starting to gather in the corners of his eyes. It should be gross, really, but Lance can’t even bring himself to feel annoyed. Maybe his emotions have gotten miswired, but all he feels in his chest is a flood of warmth and adoration. Lance’s shoulders slump in defeat, the will to fight him on this particular topic leaving in one loud exhale.

Keith slides easily into the space Lance had made, resting his head on Lance’s shoulder and nuzzling into his neck. Almost distractedly, his hand comes down to Lance’s lap and grabs his hand, playing with his fingers halfheartedly. “Hey.”

“What?” Lance manages around a scowl, still stubbornly trying to hold onto the act that he’s annoyed with Keith’s antics. Keith ignores it, inhaling deeply to gain confidence before continuing with what he’d been planning on saying.

“Thanks for being here.” Keith’s voice is much quieter than before, any playful tone from before gone from the atmosphere. He’s serious now, the words carrying a weight that just hadn’t been there before, and was rarely seen at all between them. They tended to keep things light and easy, hence why Lance couldn’t help but let his composure crack as he twisted in his seat to look Keith in the eyes.

No matter how diligently his boyfriend was trying to look anywhere else.

Keith continues in a low voice, blushing faintly as he finally trails his eyes back to Lance’s. He squeezes Lance’s hand hard, biting his lip. “It’s, um, a lot easier... with you around.”

“I’m glad.” Lance breathes, leaning in close and resting their foreheads together. He reaches up, his fingertips trailing over the sharp lines of Keith’s cheekbone and jaw, exploring the same places he’s been so many times before with that same awed sense of appreciation. He grins. “If there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will.”

“I mean it, I’m here for you.” Lance reiterates, tilting his head to brush their lips lightly together. Keith smiles into the kiss, but it doesn’t ruin it as much as it improves it, until they’re both sat there grinning like idiots against each other’s mouths. “It makes me really happy to know I’m needed.”

“I’ve never needed anyone like I need you.”

“Shut-up.” Lance groans, but no matter how he tries to play it off there’s no hiding the genuine emotion he’s feeling. It still feels so new to him, every single time Keith says something like that, so reassuring and uplifting. He’s so used to being taken for granted, being appreciated like this is overwhelming to the highest degree, but so, so good. He can’t imagine ever settling for anything less now.

He leans back, cupping Keith’s face between his hands and meeting his gaze.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Keith responds without missing a beat, the words no doubt resting on the very tip of his tongue for a while now.

This time it’s Keith that crosses the center console, leaning into Lance’s space and kissing him hard. Keith is heavy-handed and to-the-point at best, but when it’s close to the full moon he loses all discretion. There’s no finesse at all in the way he slides his tongue past Lance’s lips and immediately starts heating up the kiss into something else entirely. It’s wet and dirty, desperate in the way Keith’s hands pull him in closer. Lance moans, his fingers clutching the front of Keith’s shirt.

Torn between going along with it or not, Lance eventually finds the willpower to shove him back into his own seat.

“I _don’t_ love you enough to hook-up in a car. There’s nowhere near enough space in here for that and you're still on the clock.” Lance exhales shakily, swiping the back of his hand across his lips. “... Damn if it isn’t tempting when you kiss me like that, though.”

“I could make it fast.” Keith suggests, eyebrows raising expectantly. When Lance doesn’t even deign that with a response, Keith’s fingers edge toward the buttons of his shirt, shoulders shimmying suggestively like he might rip it right off his frame for the show of it all. Lance rolls his eyes.

“Contrary to what you seem to think, no, that statement doesn't make it at all more appealing.”

“Fine.” Keith sighs, pouting as he leans in for one more kiss. A kiss that leads to another. And then maybe one more for the road. And before Lance can even realize how fucking gone he truly is for the boy sitting across from him, they’re clambering into the backseat and giggling like teenagers as Lance settles between Keith’s legs. He has the button on his jeans undone and grimy grease-covered fingers threaded through his hair, and goddamn Lance has never felt better than he does in that moment.

He doesn’t even have the liberty of saying it’s the first time he’s done this, in general and also in this same damned parking lot. It’s only a matter of time before they get caught and Keith gets fired to hell and back, but somehow the risk feels a lot less like a threat and more like a joke when they get like this, all giddy and lost in the love they feel.

It’s their own little world, where the only thing that matters is the pulse of Keith’s heartbeat under Lance’s palm and the pleased noises echoing in his ears.

\--

Lance squints into the foggy mirror, meticulously arranging each strand of hair as quick as he can before the product dries. He’s sure that he makes quite the picture, stretched out to lean over the bathroom cabinet, towel hanging dangerously low on his hips and sinking lower by the second. He wants to believe it’s sexy, that he’s some sort-of celebrity getting ready for their night out on the town. But deep down beneath the act of hyping himself up, he knows better.

He forgot to shave an entire leg somehow, he’s got pimple cream in his eyebrow, and he’s pretty sure that cursed cowlick is there again on the back of his head (the one that makes him look like Jimmy Neutron, damn it). He probably looks like a mess, yet he doesn’t hesitate to poke his head out of the bathroom door to check up on his boyfriend.

Keith, the utter saint he is, is still waiting patiently for Lance to finish getting ready. Sure, he’s sprawled out face-down on the couch and looks mostly dead from a distance, but Lance can tell he’s putting a real effort into being patient and supportive. It’s his own fault really, springing a date night on Lance with so little time to prepare.

Lance smirks to himself, watching as Keith attempts to subtly grab the beer he’s already opened and set on the floor just out of sight.

“Couldn’t even wait until we got there, huh?” Lance speaks up, clicking his tongue loudly. Keith startles so much he nearly drops the whole can, but manages to settle just in time. He lifts his head from the throw pillow he’s been buried into, eyes widening at Lance’s state of undress. He tries to play it off, to not let his eyes linger, the effort is visible. He averts his eyes and takes a long swig of his beer, quickly shoving his face back down into the pillow in embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t take a _century_ to shower.” Keith grumbles into the pillow, his words deeply muffled. Lance scoffs in mock offense at that, a mischievous little grin worming its way across his lips. He starts toward Keith before he can talk himself out of it.

Reaching the couch, he swings a leg over Keith until he’s straddling slim hips. Keith tenses underneath him and Lance quietly shushes him, pushing his shirt up around his shoulders and revealing the pale plane of his back. Lance hums in appreciation, fingertips tracing over the notches of Keith’s spine. He looks nice like this, spread out underneath Lance all lax and content, dark hair falling messily over the pillow. Lance leans down, pushing his hair aside and pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Not all of us can be blessed with natural beauty like you, gorgeous.” He whispers, finally applying pressure behind his touch. He kneads Keith’s shoulders, working the knots out of his muscles and trying to coax him into relaxing more. Keith shifts, tilting his head to the side to keep up with the conversation.

“You looked fine when I _first_ asked you if you wanted to go out.”

“I was in my pajamas? Not to mention I had a face mask on, my contacts weren’t in, hell, my hair was so greasy-”

“I’m aware.” Keith interrupts in a knowing tone, speaking so matter-of-factly that Lance can’t help but pinch the round little pouch of his stomach. Keith yelps, squirming away from Lance’s hands the more they start to err on the side of tickling. Taking a hint, Lance reluctantly gets to his feet and starts back toward the bathroom, hiking his towel up again. He’s hoping the mirror has cleared up enough now for him to start rushing through his makeup routine.

Halfway across the room and he pauses, thinking back to a specific argument from the past, with a person who hasn’t been in his life for years. Still… he finds himself hesitating. Does he really need to bother with makeup? Do they need to go out at all? Keith hardly seems excited about it anymore.

Lance turns around, worrying his bottom lip heavily between his teeth.

“You know we can cancel, right? We don’t have to go out if you don’t feel up to it. I know this might not be a good time for you.” Lance says his piece and then snaps his jaw shut, holding his breath without even fully realizing what he’s doing. He always does this, puts himself second to accomodate what everyone else wants.

Keith actually sits up then, even going so far as to get to his feet and cross the room after Lance. For a terrifying moment, Lance thinks that maybe he’s said the wrong thing, that maybe he was fine _until_ he started to overthink and _now_ it’s annoying that he can’t make up his mind.

But Keith doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t storm off to the bar without Lance because he can’t possibly wait another second, and he doesn’t start shooting passive aggressive glares in Lance’s direction. He just marches tiredly up to Lance and opens his arms, pulling him into a tight hug. Now it’s Lance’s turn to relax under Keith’s comforting touch, the breath he’d been holding leaving his lungs in one heavy sigh.

“Lance, the full moon is still four days away. It’s bad enough that it takes a whole day from me every month, I’m not letting it take the whole week.” Keith says, tucking his face into the curve of Lance’s neck and simply staying there, his presence steady and calming.

“I guess you’re right, I was just overthinking-”

“That’s not what I said.” Keith hums. “You _want_ this. You do so much for me, I want to do things for you too. I want to support what makes you happy. You _like_ getting dressed up and as much as I hate waiting for anything ever, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t worth it in the end. You’re gorgeous no matter what, but I like it _best_ when you’re confident in how you look and you do that dumb thing where you hang off my arm like you’re a sexy Bond girl.”

“Keith.” Lance sighs, a smile stretching across his face. He gives a pleased hum when Keith leans in, lightly kissing down his jaw, eventually finding his lips with a quiet possessive growl. Lance doesn't think anything of it, too distracted by the fuzzy warmth in his chest.

He doesn't realize Keith's intentions until it's too late and there's a pair of soft lips speaking against the shell of his ear, deft tongue tracing across his neck.

“And it doesn't hurt that you look so good at the end of the night, too. When you're all tipsy and clingy. So fuckable. It makes me wanna steal you away from the crowd and get you on your knees, just to see what that long-lasting lipstick you spend so much on can really hold up against.”

“W-Well, aren’t you sweet?” Lance stutters, stumbling his way out of Keith’s hold. He feels flustered down to his core, like he’s experiencing whiplash at how quickly Keith went from sweet to sexy.

Keith knows exactly what he's doing to him too, his grin turning into something feral. For every step back Lance takes, Keith stalks after him with dark eyes and obvious intent. Lance feels the heat pool southward, his spent cock giving a pathetic twitch of interest beneath the towel.

“Not nearly as sweet as you.” Keith all but purrs, advancing twice as fast when Lance’s back collides with the wall. He manages to dodge at the last second, backing into the bathroom.

“Keith, no, we _can’t_ go again.” Lance pleads fall on deaf ears. Keith is honed in on him now like predator to prey. He’s fighting a losing battle and they both know it. He sees it in the way Keith is raking his eyes over him, sizing him up. “We’ll be _so_ late getting to the bar.”

“Just one more.” Keith insists, herding Lance toward the counter with a stubbornness that is innately wolf. Lance pouts, but he doesn't have anywhere else to go but backward.

“That’s what you said last time! And the time before that!”

Before Lance runs out of room to evade, Keith's hands land heavy on his hips and forcibly turn him around. His eyes widen in confusion for a split second, but then they land on the reflection in the mirror. Keith is standing behind him, eyes flashing with something inhuman.

Lance feels a shiver run through his frame.

Keith's hand settles at the small of Lance's back, applying steady pressure. Lance takes the hint, his face burning in shame as he leans over the counter and pushes his hips back. Keith sinks down behind him, a pleased rumble coming from somewhere in his chest as he admires the view.

“Wanna eat you out.” Keith all but grunts out, shuffling closer on his knees. Lance can feel his hot breath through the thin towel he's wearing, and somehow he feels more exposed with the fabric separating them. Hell, Keith is still fully clothed where he kneels.

Lance bites his lip and doesn't say a word when Keith starts to tug the towel down his hips, tantalizingly slow. As much as Lance knows it's to give him time to give a genuine yes or no answer, part of him can't help but suspect Keith enjoys drawing it out like this, just to make Lance squirm.

“Keith, we shouldn't.”

“Please, baby? I could make you feel so good. I wanna feel you come around my tongue.” Keith presses on, leaning closer and burying his face between Lance’s round cheeks. Even with the towel between them, Lance feels it when Keith's tongue swipes forward right over the pucker of his hole. He whimpers, reaching back and threading his fingers through Keith's unruly hair.

“G-God, you’re such a dog.” Lance manages. He can hardly think, let alone speak. Keith has a hand on his inner thigh, teasing as it inches up underneath the towel. That damned towel, barely covering anything at this point with the way it's sliding down his smooth skin, revealing more inch by inch for Keith's viewing pleasure.

“I'm gonna bring you to the edge and then make you beg for it. Over and over again. Until you can't take it anymore.” Keith gives a self-satisfied little chuckle, clearly speaking more for his own benefit now. With that, Keith lets the towel drop to the floor. And it would be so easy to just fall victim to the trap, play into it and get lost in sensation just like Keith is hoping for.

But Lance has been here before, knows there's no way they'll be leaving the house after Keith edges him to the point of sobbing for release. After something like that all he wants is to cuddle up and have Keith dote on him, take care of him with that careful loving hand he gets after he knows he’s been particularly rough and animal-like in taking what he wants. It’s a special kind of aftercare, Lance can’t imagine edging without it, it’s the only thing that makes all that suffering remotely worth it.

Plus, well... Lance figures if he makes Keith _wait_ , then maybe they'd both get impatient to the point that edging would be off the table completely.

Did Lance mention he really hates being edged? Don’t get him wrong, there’s a time and a place for everything in the bedroom, but he needs time to prepare himself. He doesn’t want it to happen right now, against the bathroom counter where he hardly has any grip and his legs will definitely give out beneath him. Plus their sheets are still in the wash from their earlier encounter and...

“Okay, no. We're not doing that.” Lance says decisively, reaching back and giving Keith a firm pat atop the head. His boyfriend draws back immediately, though the reedy whine that leaves his lips at being denied what he wants is borderline cute enough to make Lance go back on his word. Lance flushes deeply in embarrassment, turning around and only realizing his mistake when he finds his half-erect cock right in front of Keith’s slick lips.

As Keith starts to lean forward, tongue lolled out obscenely, Lance panics. He can feel his control slipping away, wanting to give in to the animalistic draw Keith has. So, he brings his bare foot forward and presses his toes into the obvious bulge in the front of Keith’s jeans. “No. I’m serious. It’s not happening. You can wait until we get home, you hear me?”

“Lance.” Keith gasps, hips jumping up at the light touch. “I can’t wait. I _need_ it.”

“You had it. This morning. Twice.” Lance says matter-of-factly, holding eye contact with a warning glare as he leans down to grab his towel. Then, he wraps it around his hips again and nods firmly. He starts out of the room, fingertips trailing across the width of Keith’s shoulders as he goes, enjoying the feeling of thin fabric stretched across his boyfriend’s muscles. “I’ll make it worth your while, okay? Be a good boy now and you can get a treat later.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, even giggles to himself as he slips out of the bathroom. His pace picks up until he’s speed-walking through the house, not even sure what he’s going, but determined to keep ahead of the man that’s surely following behind him now. This isn’t the first time they’ve played this game and yet every time the thrill of the pursuit settles heavy in Lance’s gut. He loves this, loves the feeling of adrenaline, the feeling of being _hunted_ by something so much stronger than he is.

They haven’t really talked about it, Lance has no idea how anyone is meant to bring that up to begin with, or if there’s even a term for it. Keith knows, though. He doesn’t entertain it any other time of the month, likely finding it too ironic to get into. But when the full moon is close, Keith’s instincts think for him and he plays along, exerts his strength and speed a little bit more to show off.

“The dog puns aren’t funny, I swear to god I’m gonna bite you out of spite alone.” Keith’s dark voice comes from somewhere behind him, but there’s definitely amusement beneath the threat. Subtle, yet warm and fond, like Keith wants to be mad and is failing horribly. Lance lights up, the familiar back and forth flirting reminding him of the early days of their relationship, despite it being so much more intimate now.

“You’ll have to catch me first, Fido.” Lance says then, a hint of a challenge obvious in the words. And then he’s running, unsure of where Keith even is behind him, of how much of a headstart he’s managed to get himself this time. He sprints toward the kitchen in nothing but a towel, squealing through laughter as he feels Keith on his heels mere seconds later.

Strong arms wrap around him from behind, lifting him into the air and letting his towel fall to the floor again. He squirms in Keith’s hold, despite knowing he doesn’t stand a chance against it. “Keith!”

“Oh? Were you saying something? Something about a chase?” Keith teased, placing Lance’s bare ass down on the counter, legs hanging over the edge and bracketing Keith’s hips. Lance sighs, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He pouts the slightest bit.

“You’re too fast, it’s not fair.”

“You’re too slow, it’s no fun.” Keith mirrors the words, sticking his tongue out. Lance repeats the gesture, sneering at him with his tongue out. Keith rolls his eyes fondly and leans in, hand bracketing Lance’s jaw as they kiss. There’s no intent behind it, Keith’s a good guy and Lance told him to stop so he won’t press his luck, but it doesn’t matter that the kiss is innocent. Lance knows what’s going through Keith’s mind, knows how desperately he wants to flip him over and take him against the kitchen counter where the neighbors could see.

Lance moans into the kiss that’d been otherwise uneventful and Keith’s lips quirk up into a smirk against his, no doubt knowing exactly what’s going on. They pull apart and sure enough, Keith is on the verge of laughter, dark and amused. “You like that, don’t you? Like being chased and tossed around.”

“Shut-up.” Lance whines in embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands. Keith simply tsks and pulls his hands away, holding onto them gently as he runs his eyes over Lance’s face. He takes his time admiring. Lance doesn’t even have to wonder if that’s what it is, the adoration is so plain on Keith’s face.

“You should put lipstick on.” Keith says suddenly, like he’s just had the greatest idea of all time and can’t wait a second to share it. Lance’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline.

“ _What_?”

“When you do your makeup, put lipstick on.”

“Keith, I’m not doing a full makeup look to go out to some small town bar filled with straight guys, are you dumb? That’s asking for trouble.”

“Trust me, no one’s gonna say anything.” Keith insists, nuzzling his face into the crook of Lance’s neck and staying there. He hums happily. “There’s something about me, idiots just know when to keep their mouths shut. Werewolf energy, maybe?”

“Or the fact that you’ve got yourself a nasty little reputation for starting fights.”

“My reputation is for _ending_ fights, thank-you very much.” Keith jokes, and Lance can feel it when his smile stretches out across his neck. He can also feel the sharp and demanding press of Keith's teeth, and Lance wonders if he’s imagining the sharp press of canine incisors just because he wants them to be there. Either way, Keith's holding onto his control by a thread and it's for that very reason that his plead becomes all the more difficult to deny. “Come on, baby, do it for me?”

“What color?” Lance relents.

“Red.” Keith swallows hard, leaning back with longing written plain across his face. Lance is sure if he could read minds in that moment that he'd be mortified at the sheer depravity running through his boyfriend's. Still, his legs tighten around Keith’s hips and draw him in closer.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, the really red one.” Keith licks his lips, slow and certain, and Lance catches a glimpse of those startlingly white teeth that are indeed shifted into fangs. Long and narrow, sharp enough to prick a finger, intimidating as they are arousing. Lance isn’t sure what’s wrong with him that the sight has him wanting to kiss Keith again, hard and rough, to dance on the edge of danger.

He doesn’t say where his thoughts are at. He’s never seen Keith’s fangs before, wasn’t even aware they _could_ appear before the full transformation. So maybe it’s a sensitive subject, something he wasn’t meant to see. He keeps his mouth shut, no matter how it pains him.

\--

Now, listen, Lance knows that the full moon is a hundred times harder on Keith than it’ll ever possibly be on him. He has absolutely no right to complain about how it inconveniences him when he isn’t the one who has to feel the bones in his body break and reform each month. Keith needs him to be there for him right now, to understand and support him (even when he does questionable werewolf things). Lance has come to terms with all of this.

Usually, _this_ means calmly talking Keith down from a fight every other month and having rough sex a couple times a day at the beginning of the week. Lance can live with that. Hell, sometimes he even finds himself looking forward to it.

Right now, it means helping Shiro physically drag Keith away from some guy at the bar, cursing and growling like some kind of animal. As if that isn’t bad enough, it isn’t even the first guy Keith has flown into since getting here! It seems anyone that so much as looks at him has to pay the price. By now his knuckles are beaten and bruised, his lip swollen, he might even be looking at some assault charges if he doesn’t get it together right now.

So, really, can you blame Lance for the way his patience is starting to dwindle?

“What’s his problem?!” The guy screams, wiping blood from where it’s streaming from his (probably broken) nose. Lance winces in sympathy, his grip on Keith’s bicep tightening tenfold, lest he get out of their hold and do anymore damage. He’s still sputtering like some kind of worn machine, thrashing wildly in an attempt to get loose.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Keith yells back at the guy, not a hint of exaggeration in his words. The wide-eyed and startled look Shiro shoots toward Lance says even _he_ notices a difference in Keith this month. And he’s known Keith long enough that he was there when he’d first been turned during his rebellious teen years, so usually nothing surprises him.

Lance sighs, slapping a hand over Keith’s mouth to shut him up.

“Sorry, so sorry! He doesn’t mean that!” Lance says, apologetically waving as Keith finally relents and lets himself be dragged away. He isn’t really helping at first as much as just going limp and giving in to Shiro and Lance’s hold on him, but eventually he does get to his feet and follow along beside them.

Now that he’s out of the heat of the moment, Lance can tell he’s starting to feel the slightest bit of remorse. He’s hanging his head slightly, refusing to look either of them in the eye when before he would have just glared back, a challenge rolling like fire in his irises. Any other time, Lance would let it go, try and force himself to be understanding.

Right now, though, after being forced into that situation full of confrontation… he can’t shake the anger he’s feeling. The adrenaline is coursing through him, the fear still settled in his gut that the stranger will come back for another round, the disappointment in his boyfriend for acting like that. He’s pissed. He hides it tremendously better than Keith ever could, even weeks away from a full moon, but it’s still there. He just knows there’s a time and place for it.

Lance leads them to a table in the very back corner of the room, a private little booth that’s far enough away from everyone else that Keith will have a chance to fully calm down. He practically shoves Keith into his seat. He’s speaking up before Keith has even had a chance to sit up.

“Are you serious? Death threats? Real classy, Keith. Way to inform everyone in this whole damn bar that you have anger management issues.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Keith grits out, the regret he’d been starting to feel replaced by a desperate need to stand up for himself. Lance steps closer, looming over him like a parent ready to give a lecture. He doesn’t get another word out before Shiro grabs him though, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance and leading him to sit down across from Keith.

“Guys, calm down.” Shiro orders them both, a stern look shot in Keith’s direction in particular. If he notices it, Keith doesn’t acknowledge the attention whatsoever.

“He started it!” Lance hisses out pettily, kicking Keith’s foot under the table. “He _always_ starts it.”

“I know he does, that’s why he’s so _lucky_ to have someone like you in his life that doesn’t hold that against him and lets him learn from his mistakes.” Shiro replies, voice kind. Too kind. Lance knows exactly what’s coming and he steels himself for it when he looks up. Shiro is staring right back at him, that familiar awkward pleading smile on his lips.

“What?”

“I’m gonna go talk to that guy and try to clear the air. Lance, will you pretty please take care of Keith and make sure this doesn’t happen again? I really don’t feel like getting banned from my favorite bar ever tonight.” Shiro asks him outright, doesn’t even try to make it discreet. Lance huffs, looking toward where Keith is trying so very hard to pretend he isn’t listening to a word of their conversation. Lance knows he is though, that he heard Shiro begging his boyfriend to get him under control already.

He half expects Keith to get mad, to insist he doesn’t need anyone to help him and that he doesn’t want to be treated like a child throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t come to his own defense for once though, just slumps down lower in his seat and continues to sulk. Lance is reminded again of all the times Keith had told him how much he helped calm him down, how grateful he was to have someone here with him through all of this, someone who really knew what was going on.

Lance runs a hand over his face with a groan.

“Fine.” Lance sighs out in agreement. As much as he doesn’t want to deal with his boyfriend right now, he doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret later either and push Keith away. He loves him, though sometimes it’s easier to forget that fact when he’s acting like this. Lance watches Shiro walk away, trying to come up with a way to even _start_ the damage control.

The silence stretches on, Lance uncharacteristically at a loss for words. It gets to the point that Keith straightens up a little bit, peering over at him from behind the curtain of his bangs.

“You’re mad at me.” It isn’t really a question. Lance is frustrated both with Keith and himself now, his fingers tapping against the table’s flat surface as he tries to think.

“I’m not mad, I’m just-”

“Disappointed?” Keith interrupts with a knowing snort. “Haven’t I heard that one a million times.”

“What did he even _do_ , Keith?”

“Nothing.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Keith is deflecting, trying not to share. In the back of his mind, Lance already had his suspicions about what was going on. But now more than ever, he _knows_. He knows there’s a reason Keith doesn’t want to talk about it and it’s not to save his own skin.

“This isn’t gonna work if you don’t talk to me.”

“He pointed you out to his buddies like you were some kind of joke. A guy wearing makeup.” He grits the words out angrily, jaw clenching all over again as he stares over to where Shiro is trying to make amends with the guy. Lance gives a thin smile.

“Keith, I know I brought it up earlier, but I don’t care about that stuff. Just because I don’t want to bother with them doesn’t mean I _care_ about what they think.” Lance insists, his voice gentle and soothing. It’s a lot harder to stay mad at Keith knowing he was only thinking about Lance this whole time, wanting to protect him.

He scoots around the booth, sitting next to Keith now and holding his trembling hands.

“But-”

“No, listen. I don’t take it to heart anymore, I’ve grown. I’m proud of who I am, exactly how I am. Those guys and their opinions mean nothing to me. They shouldn’t mean anything to you either.”

“But it makes me mad.” Keith admits quietly, voice wavering slightly. Lance leans his head on his shoulder, pressing a light kiss to Keith’s jaw before relaxing into his side.

“And that’s okay, but you don’t have to act on those emotions.” Lance continues, trailing his thumb across the back of Keith’s hand. He frowns when he sees all the cuts and scrapes now adorning the pale skin. Keith must notice, his shoulders tensing. “You know, sometimes, when all they’re really looking for is a reaction... the biggest power move you can play is ignoring them.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.” Lance singsongs, bright and cheery, trying to lighten the mood. It works, no matter how much Keith doesn’t want to admit it. He breaks out into a familiar smile, rolling his eyes at Lance’s usual antics. It makes Lance feel happy, to see how much he can impact Keith’s mood so easily.

“Shut-up.” Keith grunts, turning and burying his face into Lance’s hair, probably to hide a blush. Lance squeezes his hand in reassurance and then the words start stumbling out one after the other, awkward and rushed like he’d been dying to say them for a while already. “I’m sorry. For embarrassing you and stressing you out. You don’t deserve that. You shouldn’t have to clean up the messes I make.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I hate when I get like this. I can’t control my emotions at all.”

“I don’t know, it’s not the _worst_ thing in the world. Normally you have too much control over your emotions, you can be difficult to read.” Lance ponders aloud, keeping his tone light and airy.

In reality, he’s thought about this a lot more than he lets on. There are parts of the full moon that Lance doesn’t mind, but then there are moments where he can really appreciate it, even. Keith is always a bold person, but he’s also an extremely defensive and private one. This is the only time he really opens up, when he doesn’t know how not to.

“Difficult to read is better than obvious enough to let the whole bar know I have anger management issues, isn’t it?” Keith’s voice is barely more than a whisper, but they’re close enough that Lance catches it anyway. He feels a pang of regret in his chest.

“Sometimes, I guess.” Lance snorts. He should have known Keith was listening closely earlier, that he would take something like that to heart. “You’re fine, Keith. Just try to channel all that energy into something a little more productive from now on, okay?”

“I don’t know _how_ .” And Lance can tell he’s really in the thick of it now, struggling more than he usually does to keep control over himself. His voice has taken on that whiny helpless lilt, stressed over his own inability to self-regulate his emotions and actions. He’s usually so composed, almost unsettlingly so, Lance knows this is hard on him. He genuinely wants to do what Lance is asking of him, he just isn’t entirely sure that he _can_.

Lance gets to his feet, shimmying past Keith to stand outside the booth. He holds out a hand.

“Dance with me.”

Normally, Keith isn’t much of a dancer. Right now he jumps on the opportunity to do something though, to use up all of the excess energy coursing through him. He leads Lance to the center of the small dance floor, only a few other people actually there. Where this would heighten Keith’s anxiety any other time, right now he seems more at ease than Lance to have all eyes in the room on them.

They dance to every song that comes on, be it slow or fast. Sometimes Keith gathers him close and cradles Lance to his chest, other times he swings him around like the world’s clumsiest ragdoll and they laugh like idiots each time he nearly falls over and Keith has to catch him again. And it’s nice. Lance forgets the poor start to the night entirely and starts to have a really good time.

Of course, it’s when he lets his guard down that Lance fails to notice the subtle way the atmosphere shifts as the night goes on. Half an hour or so later and Keith is behind him, hands gripping Lance’s hips tightly. At first Lance thought it might be a joke, a mockery of the obnoxious sexual grinds other people around them were doing… but now he isn’t so sure.

“Keith?” He asks in a quiet hum, tilting his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder. Behind him, the other man is grinding against his backside in choppy little movements, quickly losing any semblance of dance they might have once held. Lance isn’t even sure if Keith is entirely _aware_ of what he’s doing, but they’re definitely dry-humping on the dancefloor right now. It has Lance blushing deep in embarrassment, knowing full well there are a few people aware of what’s going on.

“Yeah?” The response comes after a long beat of silence, Keith’s voice shaky and breathless as he speaks against the shell of Lance’s ear. Unable to stop himself, Lance finds himself leaning back into the touch and chasing after more. He feels it when Keith smirks into his skin, the same way he feels the sharp drag of pointed teeth that follows, slow and sensual across the rapid pulse beating away in his neck.

A shiver wracks Lance’s frame and he debates just letting it go, staying right where he’s at and letting Keith have his way with him. He knows that’s where the night’s headed eventually anyway, what’s the harm in speeding it up a little bit?

But then he glances across the room and makes eye contact with Shiro, who serves sort-of as a brother to the both of them since Lance came into Keith’s life and met the guy. He just looks so damn… nice. He has this dumb encouraging smile on his face, like he’s gonna give a thumbs up any moment now and praise them for getting along again. He’s not stupid by a long shot, so he’s definitely not oblivious to what’s going on right now… he just wants them to be happy.

He wants them to be happy more than he wants to wash his eyes out with bleach upon seeing his closest friends in an uncomfortably sexual scenario. That’s love, right there.

And it’s that knowledge that has Lance spinning around in Keith’s hold and jabbing a finger into Keith’s chest, pretending he was planning on being the bigger person all along. He wasn’t. He was a hair’s width away from shoving Keith’s hands around to his front and rocking against them.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Keith lies easily, lips tilting up into a devilish smirk. He’s still moving subtly to the beat of the song, trying to play off his actions as innocent. Lance narrows his eyes at him as he steps closer, shoulders rolling with the music. Lance is still suspicious, but he lets Keith pull him into an embrace, something akin to a hug where their bodies sway back and forth to the music.

At first Lance figures Keith’s having a go at trying to be romantic, as an apology for his less than chivalry actions moments before. He should know better. Realization comes to him in the form of Keith shifting just that little bit closer and eliminating the rest of the space between their bodies, so Lance can feel his boyfriend’s very obvious bulge against his thigh.

He knows he should pretend to be annoyed, especially if he wants to stick to the idea that he’s not at all into this, but he can’t bring himself to push Keith away now that he’s so close. As subtle as he can manage, Lance’s hand falls between them to cup the outline in Keith’s jeans. Keith lets out a grumbly purr of sorts, rolling his hips into the touch. “Unless you _want_ me to be doing something…?”

“I don’t.” Lance insists stubbornly, even as his fingertips tease the head of Keith’s cock through the layers of fabric between them. There’s no use in pretending to be coy when he can feel pre-cum dampening everywhere he touches, but he’s trying to hold onto this frayed shred of dignity with all he has.

Shiro is right there, for God’s sake! Why isn’t that reason enough to stop doing this!?

He chocks it up to animal magnetism. For all he knows, Keith lets off pheromones when he gets like this before the full moon, turning Lance into just as much of a sex-fiend as he is. That’s the easy answer anyway, easier than admitting he’s just a slut for anything Keith does. Easier than admitting he loves it all on his own. Loves the burn of shame in the pit of his gut, the thrill of getting caught, the submission as he leans into the touches rather than fighting them away.

Keith’s got his hands between them now too, urging Lance to touch himself instead of worrying about his boyfriend. That’s even more humiliating in a way, standing here with his hands on himself in public. But Keith knows this, it’s easy to tell by the dark and satisfied glint in his eyes as Lance willingly goes along with it.

He starts out subtle, rubbing the heel of his hand against the bulge in his jeans. His mouth falls open and Keith swoops forward, kissing him hard enough to make his head spin and his legs shake. He’s lucky Keith is trying to shelter them from sight, practically clinging onto Lance and giving him the added support he needs to stay upright.

When Keith speaks up again, he’s close enough that the whisper is audible even over the thudding bass of the music.

“What do you think they’d do if we fucked right here? Out in the open? For anyone to see?” It isn’t really a suggestion, but it isn’t a joke either. It takes Lance an embarrassing five seconds or so before he realizes Keith is being serious, that he plans on doing this. He’s toying with Lance’s button to ask for explicit permission and not just as an absentminded gesture. There’s heat rolling off of him in waves, body burning like a furnace where it’s pressed up against Lance’s front.

It’s absurd. It’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard and there’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen, animal magnetism or not. There’s a line and that’s crossing it. He doesn’t like public sex to begin with, he isn’t about to become an outright exhibitionist.

… But Lance can’t help it, he finds himself imagining exactly what Keith is asking for. He wonders if it’d be a quick task, his shirt pulled down just enough to cover where Keith’s hand is stroking him off in a room full of people. Or maybe Keith wouldn’t stop there, he’d turn Lance around and push his jeans down just enough to get his ass out, then he’d-

Lance trembles, reaching down to pry Keith’s hands away from him.

“Alright, you know what, looks like we’re going back to the timeout table until you learn how to behave in public.” Lance states, trying to sound authoritative. Keith is looking at him with this damned crooked grin though, like he can see right through the act and he knows that Lance is just as worked up as he is now. It’s infuriating.

So, Lance turns on his heel and marches back to where Shiro is waiting for them, leaving Keith standing there alone in a state of total debauchery.

He isn’t expecting to see someone else sitting at their table with Shiro when he gets there. He lights up the second he recognizes the familiar face, running his hand through his hair to try and compose himself better. He knows what it looks like. _What it is_. There’s no hiding it from anyone with any sense.

“Hey, when did Adam get here?”

“His shift ended twenty minutes ago and he decided to stop by.” Shiro explains, taking a sip of his husband’s drink and then pulling a face at whatever he finds inside the cup. Adam rolls his eyes fondly, reaching up to card his fingers through Shiro’s short, white hair.

“Couldn’t leave him lonely and third-wheeling you two.” Adam explains, eyes flickering over to where Keith has come to stand beside Lance in guilty silence. “Speaking of which, you guys looked like you were having fun out there, huh?”

“Well, uh, we were just-” Lance attempts to stutter through an explanation while Keith stays completely quiet next to him, making no move to try and cover for his own ass. Maybe it’s a lost cause.  

“Ignore him.” Shiro interrupts, casting Adam a knowing look. “Is Keith feeling better?”

“Oh yeah, I think he must have gotten into some tequila when I wasn’t looking. You know how it is, dude can’t hold his liquor.” Lance has given some form of this excuse so many times it rolls off of his tongue easy and smooth, nothing like the stuttered mess from before. Keith continues to stare down at the floor. Lance elbows him in the side. “It must be starting to wear off by now, though. _Right, Keith_?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m happy to hear that.” Shiro smiles wide like that’d truly been his only concern of the night and then offers up an easy change of subject to move onto. Lance has literally never been so thankful to have Shiro be his friend ever before. He relaxes, even starts to engage in the conversation. He’s calming down, forgetting about the pressure of his jeans against his erection.

Meanwhile, Keith settles next to Lance. He leans over the table and buries his face into the crook of his arm, exhaling loudly like he’s making to fall asleep. Lance ignores him, chatting idly with Shiro and Adam, trying to will the heat in his groin to go away already.

What he fails to notice is where Keith’s other hand is. At first, it’s resting on the seat between them. Then it’s cupping Lance’s knee in reassurance. Then, there’s deft fingers tracing their way up Lance’s inner thigh, exploring the seam of his jeans with careful attention. By then, there are alarms blaring in Lance’s head, and yet he makes no effort to move.

Instead he sits there, tense as can be, and lets Keith unbutton his jeans. The movements are deliberate, but also a lot slower than Keith would usually be moving. He’s testing the waters, giving Lance plenty of time to stop him. And Lance knows he should, without a doubt… but he can’t bring himself to. Keith keeps sneaking him these sneaky little smiles from where he’s hiding his face in his arm, eyes alight with playfulness.

He slides his hand into Lance’s pants, fingers tracing the outline of his rapidly hardening cock this time with only one layer of thin fabric left between them. He’s trying his best to keep is subtle, which means each movement is teasingly slow. He strokes over Lance with his fingers, applying more than enough pressure to work him back up to where he was before and then some.

Lance starts to squirm at about that time, trying and failing to hold a conversation while his body barrels toward a deeply satisfying orgasm he’s been waiting on for hours. If the others notice anything, they at least have the decency to pretend not to.

Keith pauses at the head of Lance’s cock, fingertips rubbing harshly against the leaking tip. It’s too much all at once. Lance chokes around a moan, torn between rolling his hips into the touch or away from it. It’s not like he has much of a choice anyway, he has to stay still and Keith shows no signs of relenting. He just keeps on going, until he can feel Lance pulsing against his fingers, on the verge of coming in his pants right there in front of their friends.

He’s perched on the precipice of release, biting back the noises trying to claw their way up his throat. It’s sweet torture, trying to fight off the pleasure he’s so desperate to feel. He feels like he could come any second now if he relaxed, but that’s not the game they’re playing and he knows it. Surely Keith doesn’t actually want him to make a scene of himself like that, he’s just seeing how far he can push it before Lance puts a stop to it. It’s a game of who will back down first.

Except Keith just keeps on going, gripping him and rubbing hard whenever Lance thinks he might finally get a chance to catch his breath. He can feel himself slipping. The heat is pooling southward, hot little electric pulses shooting down his abdomen to where Keith is circling the head of his cock with one damned finger. He’s just playing with him at this point, no doubt getting off on the desperation rolling off of Lance in waves.

Just when he’s sure the first shot of cum is gonna soak Keith’s damned wandering hand, he darts his own down to his lap and pinches Keith’s wrist as hard as he can. He even makes sure to use his nails and inflict a little damage. Keith yelps and everyone at the table definitely notices that, but Lance can’t be bothered to care as he hastily shoves himself back into his jeans and buttons them up.

“I’m sorry, would you excuse us for a second?” Lance speaks up abruptly, interrupting whatever Shiro had been about to say, likely a question about what was wrong with Keith. The squeaky way his voice breaks must give it away. Shiro has sympathy written all over his features and Adam looks at him with a look of total exasperation. It’s the epitome of embarrassing.

He snatches Keith’s hand from his lap and drags the other boy from the booth, his heart racing so fast he can hear the steady thuds in his ears. He’s definitely walking funny too, legs spread as wide as he can while still trying to be subtle about it.

The moment they’re out of earshot he turns to Keith with anger written across his features.

“You’re in so much trouble.” Lance snaps at him, burning up with so many mixed emotions that his voice shakes with them all. Keith is refusing to look at him though, staring distractedly across the room. Lance reaches up and cups his jaw, forcing him to turn back. “I _will_ build an actual dog house just to make you sleep outside in it. Don’t test me. I’m being serious.”

Lance barely finishes speaking when their eyes meet.

Up until that moment, he hadn’t really put much thought into what he was going to see there. He expected more of the same, vague guilt or maybe even shamelessness. Instead he sees exactly what _he’s_ feeling reflected in those dark irises. Desperation, heat, desire so tangible it has Lance swallowing down the urge to kiss it away. He looks absolutely _wrecked_.

“Are you okay?” Lance blurts, all the anger gone from his voice.

“Why don’t you just come already? Then I’ll leave you alone.” Keith pleads, his voice bordering on a whine of sorts. Lance tenses as Keith leans into his side, nuzzling into his neck. “I _know_ you’re close.”

“We’re in a room full of people, Keith!” Lance stutters out, his face feeling like it might be on fire. He shoves Keith away from him, trying to compose his thoughts. It’s clear now that this definitely falls under the category of “werewolf bullshit”, stuff that Keith can’t fully control on his own. Nevermind that Lance has never seen him get quite this bad, his eyes glassy and needy.

It’s not even that late into the week, damn it, there’s still four days left!

Lance sighs, running a hand over his face. Keith is keeping his hands to himself since being shoved away, but he has this dejected kicked puppy look about him that’s eating away at Lance and he’s not sure how much more of it he can take. “Should we go home?”

“No, can’t wait that long.” Keith says stubbornly, expression set in a pensive scowl now that he’s not getting what he wants. Lance throws his hands up.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Keith! Work with me here.”

“I’m channeling my energy into something productive.” Keith mutters under his breath, a hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks. Lance blinks, understanding dawning across his features. This is the wolf in him doing its best effort to follow Lance’s advice. Given the choice between this or pulling Keith away from another fight, he supposes he can live with this.

“And if I let you get me off you’re gonna go back to being a _normal person_ until we go home?” Lance can’t miss the way Keith visibly brightens up, looking so hopeful it’s almost funny. Lance has never known anyone so desperate to have sex with him in his life. It’s the sort of shit he dreamed about as a preteen. The reality is somehow just as annoying as it is flattering.

“Yeah.”

“You’re _sure_?”

“Yes.” Keith repeats, nodding his head in total seriousness. Without a word, Lance begins the walk of shame toward the bathroom and Keith falls into step beside him, eager and chatty all of the sudden. A far stretch from his usual self. Lance can almost picture a tail wagging behind him. “It calms me down, gives me a task to focus on when it gets overwhelming. I love the way you smell when you get all worked up. I like knowing I made you feel that good.”

“Shut-up! This is bad enough without you going on about it!” Lance hisses out, shooting a glare over at Keith. It doesn’t have the desired effect, Keith is far too obnoxiously happy to care at all. He just keeps walking, arm settling around Lance’s waist like he needs to be the one to lead him.

Lance frowns the whole way there. “Our friends back there know exactly what we’re disappearing to the bathroom to do right now. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“No?” Keith looks confused, like he can’t even comprehend the question. He holds the bathroom door open for Lance, ever the gentleman. Lance snorts out a laugh, unsurprised when Keith slaps his ass as he walks by. It’s a joke, Keith isn’t that much of a douche even when the full moon is getting under his skin, and Lance relaxes the slightest bit seeing Keith at least has a sense of humor still.

“Are you an exhibitionist? Why haven’t we talked about this?” Lance asks, earning a very dirty look from the older guy washing his hands at the sink. Lance shrugs his shoulders shamelessly, deciding if he’s going to do this there’s no use in hiding it.

“No, I don’t want people to _watch us_ , necessarily...” Keith mumbles, slipping into a bathroom stall. Lance follows, knowing damn well the old guy definitely notices it. He shuts the door and locks it, coming face-to-face with Keith’s grinning face as he leans down to kiss him already. He stops before their lips meet though, hot breath ghosting across Lance’s face. “I just want everyone to know you’re mine.”

Lance bites back a smile, rolling his eyes fondly. Then Keith’s hands are on him, roving over his hips and his sides, backing Lance up against the door in the most blatant way. He’s already tugging Lance’s belt from the loops when their lips meet, the kiss urgent with how overdue it feels. Lance stands on his tippy-toes, struggling to keep up with the way Keith’s tongue slips into his mouth and seems intent on dominating every bit of it.

Lance can’t stop thinking about what Keith said. About wanting everyone to know Lance is _his_.

It’s not that Lance doesn’t want the same. It’s just shameful beyond belief how much he _does_ , and how much everyone in the bar and their lives surely know it with how obvious they are. It’s humiliating in a sense, Keith dragging him around like a post to piss on, to stake a claim over. He should hate it. He really should. He should hate it _at least_ a little bit. So he pretends to hate it.

But he _likes_ it.

Keith is on his knees now, tugging Lance’s jeans down his legs hastily, like he can’t possibly wait another second. The moment the cool air hits Lance’s cock, it’s engulfed in wet heat instead. Keith takes him into his mouth in one long sweep, plush lips wrapped tight around him.

“God, I hate you.” Lance moans, his voice going high and needy. He brings his hands down to Keith’s shaggy hair and curls his fingers through it, trying to ground himself. Keith grunts each time he pulls particularly harsh, but otherwise he keeps honed in on the task at hand. He takes Lance deep, until the head of his cock is hitting his throat and dribbling pre-cum across his tongue. It’s too much too fast and Lance is white-knuckled, fists curled around handfuls of Keith’s hair. “I hate you so much when you get like this. I fucking _hate_ you.”

“Mhm, sure you do.” Keith hums, pulling off with a wet noise. He busies himself by kissing down the length of Lance’s cock, just barely enough to be felt in contrast to what he’d been giving before. Lance whines as Keith sucks at his balls, hands coming around to grab two handfuls of Lance’s ass in the same instant. His hands are heavy and possessive, nails dragging across Lance’s skin in a way that leaves it stinging in their wake.

Distantly, Lance’s mind supplies the word he’s looking for: _scratches_.

Keith has fucking claws.

Lance whimpers pathetically, reaching down with a fumbling hand to guide himself back to Keith’s lips in a silent plea. Keith chuckles darkly, but he relents and takes Lance back into his mouth. It’s all Lance can do to keep from imagining those fangs from before, so dangerously close to his most intimate places. If they’re really there, Keith has damn good control over his mouth, because all Lance can feel is the press of a slick tongue tracing the veins on the underside of his cock.

Keith pulls back suddenly as if to continue speaking and Lance throws his head back in frustration, pushed so close to the edge and constantly losing the stimulation he needs to get there. Keith takes pity on him and brings his hand up, jerking over Lance’s cock that’s left exposed and pressing the tip to his lips even as they form words. Lance blushes head to toe in realization. He’s gonna come all over Keith’s face and not only does Keith seem aware of this fact, he looks like he might be looking forward to it.

Keith does continue now, talking in that low drawl that brings his accent out. And damn it, Lance can’t have a werewolf kink and a cowboy kink, he has to pick _one_ at least. “You say that every time, but it’s hard to believe when you turn into such an obedient little thing the second I start ordering you around. You just want me to pin you down and fuck you however I want, don’t you? So eager to please.”

“I’m not eager to please, I’m _t-trying_ to take care of you.” Lance manages, even as he feels the telltale clench in his gut. He knows he’s about to come, his entire body going tense, back arching like a bow against the door. Keith’s tongue darts out past his slick pink lips, pointed tip digging into Lance’s slit and lapping up the pre-cum that’s gathered there.

“Aw, baby, that’s sweet.” Keith snickers, staring adoringly up the line of Lance’s body. He’s still mostly dressed, but he feels undoubtedly exposed under that animalistic stare. “But how about instead you let me take care of you, huh? Go ahead, you can come now.”

Lance doesn’t need to be told twice.

His orgasm hits him all at once and he nearly doubles over as pleasure wracks his frame. It’s more intense than it’s ever been, Keith’s hand still rapidly working him over, and those tantalizing lips tracing around the head of his cock. He comes until he thinks he might pass out, shaking with the force of it.

And when he lifts his head, thinking he might finally be done, he catches a glimpse of Keith’s face covered in streaks of white. Cum drips from his cheekbones, smeared wetly across his swollen lips, some even landed in his hair. Lance lets out a pathetic whimper as Keith’s hand squeezes him one last time, a pathetic dribble of his release sliding down his boyfriend’s wrist.

“Wow.” Lance sighs out, in a state of total bliss as he stares up at the ceiling. “That was insane.”

“Yeah, well, you know how it is.”

“Do I?” Lance muses, reaching down to cup Keith’s face. Keith leans into his palm, eyes fluttering shut again as he basks in the attention. Lance grabs a handful of toilet paper and sheepishly starts to clean the mess from Keith’s face before it dries there. His cock gives a pitiful twitch of interest when Keith’s tongue darts out to help, licking up the evidence of Lance’s climax with a pleased hum.

“It’s not every month that a supermoon comes around.” Keith mutters then, almost absentmindedly. He looks drunk all of the sudden, like he’s basking in the afterglow just as much or more than Lance is. As far as Lance can tell, he didn’t have the chance to come, but just to check he presses the toe of his shoe between Keith’s legs. Immediately, the man’s hips buck up against the pressure and he lets out a quiet punched-out grunt, eyes flying open.

“Super… moon?” Lance repeats curiously, not paying much attention. Sue him, he’s a little bit distracted by the fact Keith is still hard and ready to go, despite looking fucked out like he’s already gone three rounds or more. He’s never seen his boyfriend like this.

“Mm, it’s when the moon is way closer to the Earth than usual or something. It makes everything so much more intense, I can’t even explain it.” Keith continues, reaching down to hold Lance’s shoe exactly where it is. Lance blushes, knowing what they’re doing is well within view beneath the divider of the stalls, if anyone were to glance down they’d see Keith desperately rutting against his leg like some kind of… dog. Lance smirks around a laugh.

Keith’s eyes are flashing in the dim lighting of the bathroom, so Lance watches closely as yellow starts to bleed into the white of his eyes. It takes him a moment to process, to understand what exactly he’s watching. Before he has a chance to accept it, Keith’s familiar eyes are gone. Instead there’s a pair of wolf eyes staring up at him, raking over his disheveled appearance with a predatory stare.

Lance trembles, hands curling into fists at his sides. Maybe he should say something, especially if Keith doesn’t know this stuff keeps happening. Hell, at this rate maybe he’ll wolf out entirely and Lance will have to deal with the consequences of keeping his mouth shut. But he knows if he says anything Keith will get weird about it, will look away all ashamed, ruin the whole mood.

Lance doesn’t know how to point it out while also making it very clear he doesn’t… mind.

Keith comes only a few seconds later, a guttural growl that’s very much inhuman filling the room. He claws at Lance’s leg as he trembles through his high, curling around it and burying his face into the apex between his boyfriend’s legs. Lance yelps in his oversensitized state, but doesn’t bother trying to push Keith away from him. A small part of him believes that he might actually get _bitten_ if he tries. Keith looks a little… out of it, right now. Lost in the pleasure he’s feeling as he continues to rock against Lance’s boot, shameless in how he got off.

Instead, Lance reaches down to soothe him, running his hands through his hair and whispering soft praises to him. Keith starts to come around after a while, his grip on Lance’s leg going from something borderline painful to something gentle.

Eventually, he pries himself off entirely, leaning back and looking up at Lance with tired eyes. He looks like himself again now, at least. A feeling of relief washes over Lance as he pulls his underwear back up, dressing himself while Keith silently watches. As Lance finishes composing himself, he thinks back on the conversation they’d been having, as interrupted and stunted as it was. It seemed important at the time, even with the distractions.

A moment later and Lance offers a hand to Keith, who gratefully uses it to get back to his feet.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? About the supermoon thing?” Lance asks then, threading his fingers through Keith’s so he can’t pull away from the conversation. Not that there was really anywhere to go, still standing in a bathroom stall as they were, but Lance knew he’d try to dodge the topic at any cost if he’d been keeping it a secret this long.

As it is, Keith gives him a pout to try and get out of sharing. Lance narrows his eyes expectantly and Keith gives in, hanging his head.

“I thought I had it under control. I didn’t even think you’d notice anything changed.”

“Oh, I noticed.” Lance laughs out loud, a deep hearty laugh that showed how genuinely amusing the mere thought was. Keith glares up at him, crossing his arms over his chest. Lance quiets himself down quickly then, feeling a pang of sympathy in his chest. “It’s a lot, huh?”

“Yeah.” Keith sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. Lance digs into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, supplying a hair tie he carries around just for his boyfriend’s sake. Keith takes it gratefully, just like he always does because he never remembers to bring one of his own. Lance watches him tie his hair up in silence, biting his lip.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s not really pain.” Keith mumbles, clearly struggling to find words. “It’s just… the same as always, but worse? The transformation still happens at the same time as always, but it feels like the wolf is there the whole _month_ leading up to it, instead of just the week before. It’s there in the back of my mind at first, and it gets harder and harder to quiet the closer I get. This whole week has been hellish.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He gathers Keith into his arms, hugging him tightly. Keith is surprisingly calm about it, letting Lance coddle him and worry about him for once. There’s no defensive streak flaring up to insist he doesn’t need help, just a sense of tiredness that seems to seep all the way down to Keith’s very bones.

Maybe Lance isn’t the best boyfriend a werewolf could ask for. He should have noticed. Should have said something and tried to make it easier.

He kisses Keith’s temple, not missing the way the other boy starts to slump forward like he’s ready to pass out just like that. It’s hard to believe it’s the same person from before, filled with adrenaline and anger and lust, so much energy it boiled over inside of him. This Keith is just… exhausted. “You should have said something, I would have tried to prepare a little bit better.”

“Didn’t wanna scare you off.” Keith whispers back, lifting his head. “But I couldn’t bring myself to stay away from you this time either. I’d normally be trying to send you away by now, when I notice myself slipping like this, but I can’t. I need you.”

“You’re not gonna scare me off, Keith.” Lance assures him, nothing but certainty in his tone. Keith smiles weakly back at him. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to.”

“Can we go home?” Keith blurts suddenly, but regret flashes across his face almost as soon as he says it, and he drops his head back to Lance’s shoulder to hide it. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your night and I know I promised to be a normal human after this, but-”

“Keith, I get it.” Lance assures him, patting his back in calming circles. Then, he cracks a smile. “You came in your pants and now you’re uncomfortable, so you wanna go home.”

“Shut-up.” Keith groans, landing light smacks to Lance’s stomach. Lance giggles wildly though, catching his wrists and evading the attacks easily enough with how sluggish Keith is. Eventually, Keith gives up and instead sets his sights on a new goal, tugging Lance’s jacket from his shoulders until he can wrap himself up in it instead. Lance lets it happen, even zips it up once it’s on Keith’s body.

He looks better in it anyway, though Lance would never admit it in a million years.

“Tired?”

“Yeah, but that’s not all of it.” Keith insists, dragging the sleeves of Lance’s jacket down over his hands and flopping them around. “No, I just… I want to be with you. Just you.”

And, hell, Lance can’t think of a single instance where he’d be a strong enough man to say no to that.

His protective boyfriend mode effectively turned on, Lance helps Keith clean up to a more presentable state with the help of a bathroom sink and a lot of wet paper towel, then he leads them out. He’s eager to get home now too, can’t even comprehend why he wanted to stay in the first place. It was fun, but the idea of taking Keith home and cuddling up on the couch with him sounds infinitely better.

They approach their friends to let them know they’re leaving and Lance doesn’t even feel bad that they look like a blaring beacon of walk of shame. He’s more concerned about Keith right now than what anyone else thinks of them.

“Hey, we’re gonna head out actually.” Lance informs Shiro and Adam, hanging off of Keith’s arm. Their friends look up in surprise, like they hadn’t expected them back so soon. Before they get a chance to say their goodbyes though, Keith speaks up to fill the silence.

“Sorry about… everything.” Keith says, avoiding making eye contact. And as awkward as it is, they can tell he’s being completely genuine now. He knows he’s been a handful to deal with, especially after Lance calling him out on how obvious the supermoon had been in retrospect. Whether he wants to admit it or not, Keith’s efforts to stay lowkey have failed horribly.

“No worries.” Shiro explains cheerily, reaching out to clap Keith on the shoulder. “I’m just glad you finally found someone that can talk some sense into you, otherwise you’d probably be spending the night in the local jail again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith chuckles, but there’s a certain softness behind the words. He risks a sideways glance at Lance, a hint of a smile on his lips. Lance grins back at him, wide and unabashed. Keith breaks out into a laugh, turning back to Shiro. “I still owe you and Adam for bail, I get it. You can stop reminding me.”

“Hey! I was trying to be nice, you little brat!”

“Night, guys.” Adam laughs, giving his husband a comforting pat on the thigh. They exchange a few quick hugs and then they head out, Lance leading the way to Keith’s motorcycle and chatting brightly as he goes. Keith is quieter than usual, introspective angsty teen that he is at heart, but he nods along to everything Lance says and answers his questions, and that’s enough.

\--

Three days before the supermoon and Keith is coping… terribly. He’s been sitting in the same spot for eight hours, eyes glued to the television with an intensity that’s only mildly scary. Unlike every month prior, Lance was unable to convince Keith that rom-coms were the way to go, so instead Keith chose the movie himself. Hence the overly-dramatic and gory mockumentary series about supernatural creatures and cryptids playing in Lance’s living room.

He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Keith’s energy to come back to him in such a whir that he ends up on the floor making a stringboard about cryptid conspiracy theories or something. It hasn’t happened yet though, and the sun is starting to set now.

Maybe he burnt himself out this morning, when he woke up hours before Lance and went on his “jog” around the entire community. Lance has his suspicions that Keith did it on purpose, trying to wear himself out because he’s still nervous to let his guard down and relax around Lance. You know, in case he finally decides the werewolf thing is just too much to deal with.

And the thing is, on the surface it seems like it worked. Keith isn’t bouncing off the walls, he isn’t trying to fight anyone, and he hasn’t tried to initiate anything sexual all day. Other than his appetite, he just seems like a normal guy. For the most part.

He’s just the slightest bit… volatile.

One second he’s clinging onto Lance like a koala, begging for attention like he needs it to live. Then in an instant he becomes so fiercely independent he bristles at Lance even being in the room, defensive to the point he’s paranoid. Nevermind that Lance walked past the couch earlier to find Keith _crying_ when an episode about werewolves came on. What was that even about?! A longing to meet someone of his own kind? Hatred for what he is? Anger that they’re portraying werewolves as heartless beasts?

Lance pretended not to be watching the whole thing from the other room. Keith switches the show after that and Lance isn’t sure what he’s looking for when he switches onto an actual documentary channel and starts scoping out animal planet. But then he’s watching a whole hour long special about timber wolves and pack dynamics and Lance still doesn’t know what to make of that.

As best he can tell… Keith just looks… intrigued. Like he doesn’t understand it and it’s frustrating him that he doesn’t. It makes sense, kind of. Keith never had anything akin to a pack of his own.

His father died when he was ten, while his mother was working overseas on a relief mission in a foreign country. She hadn’t learned he was alone without a guardian for a few years, she was in such a remote location. By then Keith had spent his most formative age in foster care, bouncing from home to home as a preteen. Even now that she’s back in his life, being the best mother she can be, their relationship is estranged and uncertain. He never really knew her when he was old enough to remember it.

So Lance is trying his best to be everything Keith needs, even though all of those things seem to directly contradict one another. He hovers, but not too close. He comforts, but he doesn’t coddle. He responds whenever Keith seeks him out, but he doesn’t try to initiate anything. God, it’s like trying to survive a minefield, Keith is so unpredictable right now. Lance will take horny and protective Keith over this emotional mess any day.

And listen, Lance has been a good brother and boyfriend to many people before. He’s been close to people with periods, people with horrible PMS symptoms that he was there for. He knows the jist of dealing with someone overwhelmed by their emotions and he’s okay with it. He’s mostly just glad that Keith trusts him enough to let him see him like this.

But, dear God, no amount of periods could prepare him for walking into the living room and finding his bay window smashed into a million pieces. He drops the tray of freshly-baked cookies he’d been bringing in to his boyfriend, jaw dropping with it. He walks over, mindful of the glass he’s crunching beneath his shoes, and peers outside.

Keith is… nowhere in sight. Lance heaves out the heaviest sigh he’s ever had to sigh in his life, then goes to pull his coat on. He’s pretty damn sure Keith hasn’t transformed two nights earlier than he should, whether there’s a supermoon or not. Either way, it’s a risk he’s going to take because he’s not going to be able to sleep until he knows his idiot is safe.

He trudges out into the darkness, eyes wide as he looks around his backyard.

“Keith?” Lance calls into the darkness, hastily turning on the flashlight of his phone and waving it around to try and spot anything. He doesn’t see anything, not even tracks. He’s starting to worry now, pacing warily into the treeline.

Unlike Keith’s creepy cabin in the woods, Lance does live in an actual neighborhood of sorts and he has other humans within earshot if he were to scream. They would also be the ones to scream and call the police if a very wolfy Keith were to wander onto their property. It’s that thought that encourages him to take a few steps into the trees despite the racing of his heart.

The small forest proves just as uneventful as his yard and Lance is just about ready to give up when he hears murmuring. Now, Lance is a pretty brave guy, but being alone in a dark forest hearing whispering is definitely on everyone’s list of fears. Still, he steels his nerves and heads toward the community park that they’d put in last year.

He doesn’t know what to expect really, but eventually his flashlight catches a glint of red in the distance and Lance recognizes the blanket he’d draped over Keith’s shoulders earlier in the night. He walks toward it instead of running, trying to recall all of his boy scouts knowledge about dealing with wolves just in case something goes south.

When he gets there, he approaches Keith from behind. Despite the fact Keith can definitely hear him coming, he makes no move to turn around. He stays crouched over, looking at something in front of him with rapt fascination. Lance’s pulse skyrockets, wondering if his boyfriend was out in the woods killing things. Oh no, he’s gonna be sick.

“Keith? Babe? What you doing?” Lance asks carefully, reaching out ever so slowly to place a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Keith doesn’t whirl around with wolf eyes and fangs bared, he just shrugs his shoulders. So Lance leans closer, peering around him to see…

The red blanket from before, wrapped around a very dirty and sickly looking dog.

Lance blinks. Well, he definitely hadn’t expected this.

“I heard her crying.” Keith explains, sounding very torn up about that fact. Lance nods, trying not to show his blatant shock that Keith could hear something like that all the way from his living room. He kneels down next to him, watching Keith try to comfort the whimpering dog.

The thing is definitely a stray, or maybe abandoned, but it clearly hasn’t seen food or any form of grooming in weeks. Maybe longer than that. It’s got mats all through its fur, seems to be nursing a limp of some sort, and looks like it’s been on death’s door for months. Despite all of that, Keith is looking at it with wide understanding eyes, like he’s found a best friend and not a dying mutt.

He doesn’t ask officially. He doesn’t need to. Lance knows what Keith wants.

“We can bring it back to my place, come on.” Lance offers, giving Keith a pat on the back. Keith lights up like maybe he hadn’t expected Lance to give him permission. Sure, Lance never considered himself to be much of a dog person, and he knows for a fact Keith has never owned a pet in his life, but he’s not heartless. Even if he’d stumbled across it himself without Keith’s big pleading puppy-dog eyes begging him to, he would have taken it home.

“Okay.” Keith agrees hastily, gathering it up into his arms, still bundled in the blanket. It lets out a yelp and for a second Keith looks absolutely horrified, ashamed down to his core that he’d hurt it somehow. Lance has to laugh for ever thinking Keith would be out here killing critters for fun.

He sets a hand on his boyfriend’s arm, squeezing gently. “It’s okay, just be careful. It’s leg looks like it might be broken.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Keith asks, with this dopey little hopeful look that has Lance’s heart clenching almost painfully in his chest. It’s not even fair how cute Keith is. Lance knows he has to do everything in his power to save this dog, anything to make sure Keith doesn’t have to feel the pain of losing it. He’s already had it so hard, lost so many things he cares about, Lance can’t stand by and let it happen again.

“I’ll call around and see if there’s any vets open this late.” Lance explains, digging his phone out and doing a quick search. He pauses though, remembering something. “Did you really have to jump through the window? You’re not a superhero, dude. You could have used the door, it would have taken ten seconds more at most. I have to have that fixed and you’re paying for it.”

Keith doesn’t respond and that’s the slightest bit offensive. Lance turns to him expectantly, then he immediately freezes. Keith is staring down at the dog in his arms with the softest gaze, his fingers brushing its disgusting smelly fur out of its eyes as gently as they possibly can. Lance has never seen him like this either, all caring and nurturing, emotions so readily on display.

A fleeting thought buzzes through the back of Lance’s mind, at first quiet and then growing steadily louder each second that passes. He imagines how Keith would be with kids, if he’s looking at it right now.

He turns back to his phone with his face on fire, trying to hide it in the collar of his jacket. He’s never really thought about it before, weirdly enough. Every other person he’d been with, he’d tried to move so fast and force them into settling down. He was the guy who asked about kids on the first date and inevitably got ghosted because of it. Things with Keith just happened so naturally that it never came up, really. He didn’t feel like he had to chase after anything, there wasn’t any void to fill, he was happy just as he was.

And maybe that’s the dead giveaway right there that this time it’s different. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up and think like that, but he can’t help it right now. Keith hasn’t even met his family yet, but Lance knows when they come up for the holidays they’re gonna love him. And Lance, rather indulgently, thinks that he wouldn’t mind spending quite a few more holidays with Keith.

“Huh? Did you say something?” Keith says, a good twenty seconds later. By then Lance is biting his tongue, so far past the point of wanting to talk. So he shakes his head hurriedly, dialing a local vet’s office before Keith can question him on the awkwardness in the air. He doesn’t want to explain just yet.

Turns out, there was one vet willing to come in despite the late hour, just for them.

They’re a little family-owned business, the clinic built off of their house. When they get there, Lance can hear kids shouting in the background and if that doesn’t make his stomach do flip-flops after his earlier train of thoughts, nothing will. It doesn’t help that Keith is holding the dog like it’s a newborn baby, swaddled up in his arms so snugly it fell asleep on the drive there.

The vet looks it over and Keith refuses to move from its side, so by extension Lance is stuck there too even though the whole clinic situation gives him the creeps. He holds Keith’s hand, unsure whether he’s looking to be supported or be supportive. Either way, it’s obvious how happy Keith is to have him there, especially when the vet comes back with a verdict. Keith doesn’t even want to hear it, asks them if they can tell just Lance outside the room.

It’s ridiculous. Lance debates telling him as much. They just found this dog, there’s no way they should be this attached already. The vet’s looking at Keith like he’s a total basket case. Then Lance catches the faraway and sad look in Keith’s gaze as he stares worriedly down at the dog, the same lonely look from before with the stupid wolf documentary… and he caves.

He goes into the other room with the vet, preparing himself for a blow to the stomach that he’ll then have to pass on to Keith, breaking his heart in the process.

Except the blow doesn’t come, the vet only smiles at him genuinely and tells him they have _options_. She mentions that the easiest and cheapest one might just be to put the dog down, and Lance immediately tells her they’re not doing that. So she offers another option, and he proceeds to choke on his own saliva when he hears how much it’s gonna cost. But he agrees anyway, because he knows that’s what Keith is gonna want.

He walks back into the examination room, where Keith is sitting next to the table. The dog is lying there half-asleep as Keith attempts to work some of the tangles out of its hair. Lance doesn’t have the heart to tell him the vet is definitely just gonna shave it all off come tomorrow, that it’s not worth saving.

“So, good news and bad.” He announces, sitting down next to Keith. He doesn’t leave him hanging for long, but Keith is so eager he can’t even stand a second passing without answers.

“Yeah? Is she gonna be okay?”

“Bad news is you’re gonna be working overtime for the next little while, to pay for my window and also enough vet bills to pay for ten windows.” Lance explains, patting his thigh. “Good news? They’re gonna keep her overnight, surgery tomorrow, then a couple days to see how she heals. It’s pretty low risk, so she should be alright and ready to come home just after the full moon as long as there’s no problems.”

Keith’s shoulders relax from where they’ve been tense for hours, holding the weight of the world. He lights up into a grin so big and stupid Lance doesn’t regret a second of the time spent in the waiting room. The relief is so tangible it makes them almost giddy. Keith turns and wraps Lance up in the tightest of hugs, burying his face into Lance’s shoulder and letting out an exhale so heavy it might have even been a sob.

“Good. Thank God.” The thing is, Keith makes no effort to move after that. He just stays right where he is, plastered to Lance’s side and breathing heavily. His other hand is still on the dog, patting it steadily even still. Lance wraps an arm back around him, trying to prop him back up.

“Hey, you do realize that means we have to _leave_ , right?”

“Do we really have to?” Keith mumbles back to him, a smile audible in his voice. Lance pushes him back enough to make eye contact, searching Keith’s dark eyes for answers. He looks away, back to where the dog is resting weakly on the table. “She doesn’t want to be alone again.”

“Are you actually talking to this dog or are you doing that weird thing already where pet owners anthropomorphize their pets and talk on their behalf?” Lance asks, a sort of tiredness in his voice that can only be achieved by someone dating a supernatural creature. Keith finds it amusing at least, laughing at the misery written across Lance’s features.

“She’s not just a dog, I think she’s part wolf. I can understand some of it. Sort-of.” The explanation is a lot less helpful than Keith seems to think it is. Catching Lance’s steady gaze, he tries to elaborate a little bit better. “They’re not words, just feelings and body language.”

“God, my life is so fucking weird.” Lance concludes, getting to his feet. Keith doesn’t follow him though, just stays there staring sadly toward their new… dog. That was so not how Lance expected this day to end, not at all.

He steps closer, resting a hand in Keith’s hair. “Look, they came in after hours to help her, we can’t take up any more of their time. We can visit tomorrow after the surgery, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eventually, with more convincing than he would have predicted, Lance finally manages to drag Keith to the car. He apologizes to the vet profusely, but she seems to understand. She must get a lot of this then, emotional messes with an unreasonable attachment to animals. As it is, Keith looks like he’s gonna bawl his eyes out for the first ten minutes of the drive home.

It gets to the point Lance can’t take that pathetic look on his face anymore and he has to start up a conversation to try and distract him.

“Did you name her yet?” Lance asks, glancing quickly away from the road and over at his boyfriend. Keith looks the slightest bit lost, drawn back from his thoughts so suddenly. “You know, the dog.”

“No, I didn’t really think about it.”

“How about Cosmo? Like the stars?” Lance suggests, gesturing vaguely toward the skylight. Keith follows the movement, peering up at the sky overhead. “Seeing as you’re so tied to the moon and stars, being a creature of the night and all. It’s funny.”

“Not funny.”

“Go the extra mile and call her Cosmo with a K so you have the same initials.” Lance jokes, and at this point he’s just taking the piss. He’s amusing himself with his antics a lot more than he is Keith, but at least his boyfriend seems to be getting something out of him snorting out laughter at his own terrible attempts at humor. “Might as well fully commit to your new life as a weirdly-invested dog owner.”

“You like her too.” Keith points out stubbornly, like he’s personally offended Lance isn’t owning up to it just yet. Lance shrugs his shoulders. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attached at all, but he isn’t going to get to the point Keith’s at already. He’s had a few dogs growing up, he knows what they’re like and he just doesn’t think it’s meant for him. He doesn’t feel the connection other people seem to.

“She’s not my dog, she’s yours. You’re paying for her. She’s living at your house.” Lance explains, but Keith is having none of it. He laughs out loud at Lance’s claim, leaning his seat back and propping his feet up on the dash. Lance reaches over to swat at them, but he’s fighting a losing battle.

“She might need someone to babysit her during full moons. And when I’m at work.”

“She’s not even yours yet and you already have her spoiled!” Lance cries out. “Buy a kennel, leave her in there while you’re gone, like a _normal_ person.”

“That’s cruel!” Keith hisses back at him, sounding genuinely disgusted Lance would even suggest something like that. Lance rolls his eyes. Keith may think he understands, but there’s a big difference between training a dog and shoving a werewolf in a cage. If Keith lets this dog act however he would want to act, they’re gonna have some _major_ problems down the line.

“You’re ridiculous if you think I want a _wolf-dog_ in my home.” Lance grumbles then. “It’s too small for me, definitely too small for both of us even though you’ve basically moved in at this point, and if you shove a wolf-sized dog into that equation it makes it-”

“A family.” Keith blurts out, like he hadn’t put an ounce of thought into it and he really thought that was where Lance was going with it. Lance near chokes, swerving the car with the way his whole body tenses at the word. Keith has the audacity to laugh at the reaction, light and airy, like he hasn’t just suggested what they have is the same as the heaviest and most meaningful thing in Lance’s life.

Family has always been everything to him. He’s always wanted to start one with someone, and though he hasn’t exactly been trying to drop hints for Keith to pick up on, he knows it’s common knowledge to everyone that’s ever known him. Keith has to know how heavy what he’s saying is.

But he doesn’t look regretful, or even uncertain. He’s just staring thoughtfully up at the sky, hand reaching over to settle on Lance’s thigh absentmindedly. Lance bites his lip, feeling that final thread of resistance he’d been hanging onto snap.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, face aflame. Beside him, Keith grins like someone who knows without a doubt that they’ve gotten their way. He leans over, resting his head on Lance’s shoulder. “Damn it, Keith. I like the dog, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“You know what they say, if we can keep a dog alive together then-”

“Don’t even say it.” Lance grits out, and against all odds, Keith gives him a break and stops speaking. It doesn’t really matter though, Lance knows exactly where he’d been headed with that sentence.

There’s no way he couldn’t, he’s heard it a million times. He’s watched it in action, even. His older siblings bringing home a new lover, then a puppy they’ve adopted together… and eventually, the announcement that they’re gonna be having kids.

It’s a milestone for a lot of couples. Lance had spent the last hour or two trying to convince himself it didn’t have to mean that for them, that he was only jumping to conclusions and making assumptions, letting his desires skew his perspective of reality. Then Keith just came out and said it like that. Like it was a given that someday down the road _kids_ are going to be in their future.

It feels a little weird to be on the receiving end of that certainty Lance has been broadcasting onto everyone he’s ever been with. Weird, but also more right than it’s ever felt before. He can’t imagine it any other way now, can’t imagine a future with anyone that isn’t Keith.

\--

The next morning and Lance wakes up to an empty bed. His hands reach out across the mattress in his half-asleep state, blindly searching for the warmth Keith’s furnace body is always there to supply. He comes up short though and immediately he feels like his whole day is off to a bad start. He sits up in bed, hair sticking in every which direction, and then pulls the blanket up over his head like a hood.

He should have seen it coming. Keith let it go later than ever before, but it was only a matter of time before he’d politely pry himself away and distance himself like he does every month. Tomorrow night’s the full moon, the supermoon, and Lance knows he’s definitely gotta be feeling it by now. It’s fine. It’s more than fine. Lance knows how to be his own person.

Lance does find a hastily scribbled note on his bedside table though, wishing him a good morning and letting him know that the vets had called. Kosmo (being called that ironically until they come up with a better name) is out of surgery and doing well so far. And as much as Lance tries not to admit it, he feels a weight off his chest.

He gets up and goes about his usual routine, preparing for his classes. They’re optional for the most part, he could just opt to stay home and do the work online like he does most days when Keith is there, but right now he doesn’t really want to be alone if he can help it. He takes a shower, pulls on a hoodie, and sets off to go to the community college across town.

Two steps outside his front door and he pauses. Keith is sitting on his lawn, hair pulled back with a glittery pink headband that definitely belongs to Lance’s niece and had been left behind after her last visit to his house. More importantly than that though, was the giant mess of tools and supplies surrounding Keith on all sides. The whole yard is covered in the stuff.

“Um, good morning?” Lance says, eyebrows raising. Keith gives him a nod of acknowledgement, flipping around the piece of paper in his hands. An instruction booklet. “Are you… trying to replace my window?”

“Trying to.” Keith grunts out, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration. Lance leans against the door frame, smiling to himself. “Working on houses is _way_ harder than working on cars.”

“Well, you’re not used to it, so of course it is.” Lance offers. “You know you could have hired Hunk to do this, it’s literally what he does for a living and he’s not going to overcharge us. He’s my best friend.”

“I know, I just want to do it myself.” It’s a fairly common theme, Keith taking on projects way out of his skillset and finishing them with the power of stubbornness and spite alone. Lance has gotten used to it, so he doesn’t really try to fight it anymore. He just walks over and plops down next to Keith in the grass, eyeing the instruction booklet as subtle as he can manage.

“I think this part’s upside down.” Lance points out, pointing to one of the wooden boards Keith must have bought this morning. Keith hums curiously, glancing back and forth between the instructions and the board before nodding his head. He grabs it and sets to work rearranging things, Lance stays sitting and watches from afar for any more mistakes.

It’s almost off-putting how different Keith is today. He’s level-headed and a little standoffish, but for the most part he’s his usual self. There’s no waterworks, no overflowing emotions, no anger, no horniness… just a whole lot of concentration. Lance has no doubt in his mind that Keith plans to work at this all day without taking breaks for food or anything of the like. That’s how he gets when he’s like this.

“So… the day before the big day. Less than forty-eight hours left.” Lance says, drawing the words out slowly, trying to make it casual. He taps his fingers against the ground. He doesn’t know what to make of Keith’s sudden composure. Is it all an act or did things actually get easier overnight, his body getting more in-tune with the impulses and instincts?

More than that, why is he still here? Sure, Lance doesn’t want him to leave each month, but he thought it kind of went without saying that it was necessary no matter what they wanted. Sure, Keith _insists_ he isn’t dangerous, but is that entirely true? Lance saw how he fought those guys at the bar.

“Yep.”

“Tomorrow morning and it's dawn of the final day. Wow.” Lance mused, trying again to pry something from Keith. The man stiffens at that, looking over his shoulder with a suspicious squint.

“I'm very aware, Lance. I don't need a reminder.”

“Just making conversation.” Lance dismisses himself quickly, toying with the strings on his hoodie. He watches Keith start hammering away, not getting another chance to speak until he’s finished driving the nail into the board. He blurts it out quickly then, afraid he might lose his chance. “How do you feel?”

“Huh?”

“Are you doing okay today?” Lance re-words himself, at a loss for how to express his concerns without seeming insensitive. Keith has turned to face him now, his full undivided attention directed at Lance. It’s a little bit overwhelming considering the mood he’s in, concentrated and determined. Having that much energy directed at any one person would be off-putting to anyone. Lance squirms. “Not that you _weren’t_ doing okay yesterday, you just seem like you feel better.”

“It's hard to describe.”

“Try? For me?”

“I just feel wrong, like my body isn't big enough and the walls are closing in on me. I feel restless. Itchy. Paranoid. I need to be doing something right now or I’m just gonna implode.” Keith paces back and forth as he explains, like he can’t sit still unfocused for too long. Lance nods in understanding.

“Okay.”

“And I woke up with these.” Keith adds as an afterthought. He walks over to kneel in front of Lance, stretching his fingers out to show off the claws on his hands. Lance had felt them before, but this is his first time actually seeing the sharp dangerous-looking nails. He swallows down his nerves, and his fucked up self-preservation instincts that have arousal pooling in the bottom of his gut, and instead he focuses on comforting Keith.

He reaches out, threading his fingers between Keith’s in a show of trust. It took Keith a while to work up to showing him this, he’s not going to mess up now.

“It doesn't happen all at once?” He lifts Keith’s hand and presses kisses across his knuckles, smiling in encouragement. Keith relaxes visibly, pushing Lance’s knees away from his chest so he can crawl into his lap instead. Lance welcomes him with open arms, holding him tightly.

“The small traits show up a day or two early naturally, earlier than that when I feel really strong emotions, I guess. I've been popping fangs and claws all week but they don’t stay.” Keith explains, burying his face into Lance’s neck and inhaling deeply. Lance tenses, trying not to laugh at the ticklish feeling, knowing it probably means something important to Keith in his current state.

“F-Fangs?” Lance tries, testing his luck. Keith nods, pulling back and smiling, showing off the sharp canines in the sunlight. Lance hadn’t gotten a good look at them before, but now he reaches up and presses his finger to one experimentally. Sure enough, a drop of blood immediately wells up on the pad of his thumb and it’s all Lance can do to keep from whimpering. Keith hums apologetically, sucking it into his mouth to clean it. Lance averts his eyes, trying to will himself to not find this hot.

Keith pulls off his thumb with a wet pop, flashing another grin, this one more genuine.

“Tomorrow I'll probably get ears and a tail.” The words roll off his tongue so easily, like it occurred to him as an afterthought that he might as well throw out in the open. It holds so little weight Lance isn’t even sure what to make of it, if it’s the truth or some sort of sick joke. He wonders if Keith’s figured it out, if he can feel Lance growing hard where he sits in his lap.

Lance bites his tongue and waits, waits for Keith to call him out on being a kinky shit who gets off on just how inhuman Keith is becoming in these final days. He doesn’t though, against all odds, so Lance tries to continue the conversation and salvage it. Keith is definitely looking at him weirdly now, though.

“Oh.” Lance squeaks out, resting his hands on Keith’s hips. He massages the soft skin beneath Keith’s shirt, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles under the pretense of comforting Keith, but really he needs to distract himself before he gets worked up to the point of no return. “I didn't realize there was an in-between stage? I thought you were either human or wolf.”

“Mm, there is. And I hate it. I hate this part.” Keith explains bitterly. That’s enough for Lance’s attraction to wane, giving way to sympathy and concern for his boyfriend. He can hear how upset he is, how much he really does feel uncomfortable in his own skin right now. Lance hates that it makes him feel that way. He wishes he could hate all of it, but he can’t.

“Why?”

“It's like it's taunting me. I wish it would just happen so I could be done with it for another month, the last days always feel like they move so slow. It makes me feel sick.”

“We could go out to take your mind off it?” Lance suggests carefully, leaning in to rest their foreheads against each other. They hold eye contact as Keith debates the suggestion, a thoughtful expression. He shakes his head eventually though, a hint of shame visible in his expression.

“Bad idea. I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“You wanna keep working on the window?” This time Keith doesn’t even entertain the suggestion, he just barely pretends to. He glances back at the gaping hole in Lance’s wall and shrugs his shoulders indifferently, turning back to Lance with a frown.

“Kinda bored of that now. We can get Hunk to do it.”

“Okay, well, what do you _want_ to do?” This seems like the easiest way to figure things out. He knows that Keith has his sights set on something by how quickly he’s dismissing the options, he’s not a complete idiot. He also has a pretty good idea of what that something is, but Keith is playing coy. He leans back in Lance’s lap, repositioning so his weight bears pressure down against Lance’s front.

“You tell me.”

“We could… have more sex?” Lance tries, feeling flustered coming out and saying it like that. It’s what Keith wanted though, that’s obvious in the way he breaks out into a wicked smile.

Lance’s eyes trace the sharp outline of his fangs, his pulse hammering in his ears. Keith must notice Lance’s lingering gaze this time, because he lifts his hands and purposely flexes his fingers in front of Lance’s face, sharp claws rolling threateningly with the movement. Lance can imagine Keith pouncing on something and digging them into soft flesh, not meeting a hint of resistance as they slice into their target.

Lance stays impossibly still, not wanting to give himself away.

“This doesn’t bother you?” Keith questions finally, eyebrows furrowing together. It brings Lance a small deal of relief, seeing that Keith still looks confused at least. It’s only a matter of time until he pieces it together though, especially if things are taking a sexual turn right now. But for now, Lance gives a sheepish smile and tries to cling onto the safety net of a lie.

“I mean, it’s a risk I’m willing to take for sex.”

“You told me when we got back from the bar that you weren't even gonna look at my dick until next month. You said you _hated sex_. I thought there was something seriously wrong with you to hear those words coming from your mouth.” Keith recalls this with a suspicious sort-of look about him, eyes searching Lance’s face deeply for whatever answers he’s looking for. When Lance doesn’t confirm nor deny the accusations, Keith continues. “You know, after our third round, against the coffee table in the-”

“I know. I remember.” Lance blurts, sighing. “What can I say? I’m horny now. I changed my mind.”

“And if I don’t believe that’s all there is to your change of heart?”

“That’s your problem, I guess?” Lance knows he’s deflecting. Keith knows the art of deflecting better than anyone, so of course he catches the red flag and sees it for what it is. He grows increasingly more suspicious, that same unbridled determination from before returning to his eyes. He’s going to figure out what Lance’s secret is and he’s not going to take no for an answer.

“What are you tryna pull?”

“Nothing!”

“Look, Lance, if you think you’re gonna top… I’m sorry, but we can’t.” Keith explains, looking relatively honest in his apology. Lance nods his head, deciding that this is a better conclusion for Keith to jump to than the truth, that he wants Keith’s fangs and claws on him at any cost. “I just can't lie back and relax when I'm like this. It goes against everything I am. I _need_ to be in control right now.”

“Okay, big bad alpha wolf.” The chuckle that follows is blatantly forced, but Lance is so very close to getting what he wants he can hardly think straight. His mind is foggy, clouded with images of Keith pressing him down into the dirt and fucking him right here on his lawn. A strong jaw clamping down on his neck and teeth biting into him, claws dragging across his sides, hell, even a tail wagging happily behind him as Keith gives it to him so hard he can’t breathe. He wants it _so_ badly.

“I’m serious. If we’re doing this, it’s gotta be my way. I’m normally not like this, but I can’t predict my reactions right now and I don’t want to be too rough on you. So don’t try and pull anything.”

“I get it, okay? No ulterior motives, I swear.” Lance huffs, holding his hands up defensively between their bodies. Keith settles a hand on Lance’s chest and pushes him down until he’s lying on his back, Keith’s firm thighs straddling his narrow hips. Keith leans over him, smile devious.

“You’re sure?”

“I want sex, no matter how we have it. You can fuck me.” Lance is starting to get a little frustrated now, answering the same question over and over again. He wonders if Keith doesn’t trust him to stay true to his word, but the more Keith grins at him like that, the more he starts to realize this no longer has anything to do with the topic. Keith is onto him.

“Right here?” Keith growls out, grabbing Lance’s wrists and effortlessly pinning them above his head, pushing them down into the dirt. Lance can feel claws dancing lightly across his wrists, applying just enough pressure for him to feel it. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to swallow around the lump in his throat so he can manage an answer. It doesn’t help that Keith is subtly rolling his hips now, grinding down against the obvious bulge in the front of Lance’s joggers.

“If you want.” It seems like the most neutral answer, Lance figured it’d give the impression he didn’t really care either way. But apparently it doesn’t, Keith’s face lighting up like he’d heard exactly what he wanted to. He leans over Lance then, stretching his body out sinuously over top of him, sighing loudly in satisfaction. Lance watches the movement with helpless eyes, especially when Keith yawns and shows off those fangs again.

Lance knows it isn’t a coincidence. He’s accepted his fate.

“Your heart is beating really, really fast.” Keith points out, tilting his head to the side. He leans down, nosing over Lance’s neck where his pulse is hammering away. It’s adrenaline, a fight or flight instinct from his ancestor’s that he probably should be more respectful of. Fight, flight, or fuck. That’s what Lance always says.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” Keith hums, the vibrations buzzing against Lance’s neck. Then he’s mouthing across it, exploring the plane of smooth tan skin with his tongue. And, occasionally when Lance stays really still, with sharp little nips of his teeth. Lance knows they’ll leave marks behind and Keith is hardly even applying any pressure, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. “Are you afraid of me, Lance?”

“No.” Lance answers, but Keith sees right through the lie. He punishes him in the plainest of ways, flipping his body over effortlessly and instead shoving his face down into the dirt. And Lance can’t help himself—he shoves his hips back against Keith’s front, arching his back in offering. Keith growls, a deep satisfied noise from the heart of his chest.

“Tell me the truth.”

“Sort-of?! But not in a bad way! I know you won’t hurt me, but-” Lance cuts himself off with a moan when Keith finally bites down instead of just trailing his teeth over Lance’s skin. He’s not even applying any pressure, just letting his teeth rest open-mouthed against the softest part of Lance’s neck, but it’s more than enough. Lance’s hands curl around the grass, grabbing fistfuls of the stuff as he tries to calm himself down.

“But?” Keith presses, kissing the place he’d just bitten with extra care. Lance’s eyes flutter shut and he basks in the feeling. He knows he’s been caught red-handed anyway, so it doesn’t take too much to bite the bullet and come out and say it.

“I also know that you _could_ hurt me.”

“And you like that?”

“Um.” Lance tries to look back over his shoulder, wanting to know where Keith’s thoughts are at before he gives a definitive answer. Keith doesn’t let him though, just grips his neck and holds it to the ground, gentle enough to keep it from hurting, but firm enough that there’s no mistaking the command. Lance exhales heavily through his teeth. “Maybe?”

“Interesting.” Keith concludes then, practically purring the word. He lets up then, allowing Lance to roll over underneath him. Keith immediately pushes Lance’s legs open, settling the weight of his body between them. He rolls his hips once and Lance keens. “You know, I almost feel bad for not fucking you more during the month. You don’t like being in control all the time, huh? Maybe we should switch things up more often.”

“I’d like that.”

“Maybe someday I’ll even let you try and fuck me when I’m like this, wouldn’t that be fun? I bet I could dominate you even while you’re buried deep inside me.” Keith is mostly murmuring to himself now, entertaining his own fleeting thoughts. Lance likes the idea a little more than he probably should though, his dick growing harder beneath the layers of clothes separating them. Lance reaches up to grip Keith’s jaw, fingers tracing over it appreciatively.

“I know you could.” Lance whispers, pulling his boyfriend down into a kiss. Keith pauses just before their lips meet though, a smug look about him. He reaches down, sliding Lance’s pants down the swell of his ass and then past his thighs, until cool November air is biting at his thighs. Then, he slaps the newly exposed skin. Lance throws his head back, gasping as he stares up at the early morning sky, belatedly realizing that they’re really gonna have sex right there in the garden.

“There’s a good boy.” Keith praises, finally pushing their mouths together in a heated kiss.

\--

Lance wakes up the next morning feeling exhausted.

See, he hadn’t been all that far off with his prediction the day before. Much like the window, when Keith set his mind to something in that type of mood, he really dedicated himself to it. So when he channeled all that unnerving focus and energy into making Lance come, it ended up happening over and over again. It got to the point that he had his face buried between Lance’s legs and Lance was begging him to stop, only to drag him right back when his senses would come back to him enough to _listen_ to Lance’s broken sobs. Because despite it all, Lance didn’t want it to _end_.

So that leads him to where he is now, stirring from sleep the next morning with a dull ache in his backside and the occasional bite and scratch littering his skin. Contrary to how wrecked Lance feels now, Keith had been surprisingly careful with him yesterday. He’d been mindful of the teeth and claws an irritating amount, even though he mentioned once that he was pretty sure he could only turn someone into a werewolf on the day of the full moon anyway. It got to the point at around Lance’s fourth orgasm of the day that he just came out and begged Keith to be rougher with him.

His kink had already been exposed, damn it, at the very least give him what he wants while he wallows in shame.

But even then Keith had been wary, only really giving Lance a taste of what he wanted. Lance understood why he might be a little hesitant to just tear into his boyfriend, but he really wasn’t doing much of anything at all. Even today, Lance was pretty sure he only looked like he’d slept with a particularly handsy guy with untrimmed nails, and that was _not_ the full werewolf experience he’d been looking forward to, thank-you very much.

He wanted to look like he’d been mauled by an animal (albeit in a sexy way, not a scary way).

Lance shifts, cracking an eye open and finding the sun has barely even risen yet. It must still be pretty early, then. He wonders briefly what woke him, but then he catches movement in the corner of his vision, the bed shifting with Keith’s weight. He sighs, closing his eyes again and relaxing back into the pillow, filled with a sense of understanding.

“Hey babe.” Lance hums tiredly, blindly reaching his hand out. Keith grabs it, holding it between both of his with a certain level of tenderness Lance is becoming used to. He feels the slightest bit spoiled with it, if he’s being honest. “You headed out already?”

“Yeah.” Keith hums, peppering kisses across Lance’s knuckles, then trailing down across his wrist. Lance giggles softly, rolling over to bury his face into the pillow in an attempt to hide his reaction. Keith is nothing if not persistent though, so he kisses the rest of the way up Lance’s arm, indifferent to how Lance starts to squirm and flail around the mattress at the ticklish attention.

“Okay! I’ll get up and say goodbye properly!” Lance cries out finally, rolling out of the other side of the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress, scrubbing his hands over his face. He starts to turn back to Keith, but a weight settles behind him. Keith’s legs are splayed on either side of him hanging off the edge of the bed, his chest pressed to Lance’s back and giving off waves of warmth. Lance sighs contently, leaning back against him and yawning.

“How about you come with me instead?” A stretch of silence follows where Lance’s exhausted mind struggles to comprehend what Keith is actually suggesting. Even when he does decipher it, he has no idea what to make of it. Is this some kind of joke? Surely it has to be.

“Come with you? To the woods?”

“Yeah.” Keith repeats, this time closer to his ear. There’s no accompanying laughter, no sarcasm present in his tone, for all intents and purposes he seems… serious. Lance furrows his eyebrows together, twisting around in Keith’s hold to stare at him. He freezes though, gaze immediately landing on the obvious change in his boyfriend.

“You have ears.” Lance points out, dumbstruck. He reaches up and when Keith doesn’t shift away from his hand, he strokes one of the wolf-like fuzzy black ears atop Keith’s head. He blinks, at a total loss for words all of the sudden.

“I have a tail too.” Keith says, like that’ll make the situation any easier to process. Lance doesn’t even try to go looking for that, he’s not sure he can handle it right now. Instead, he crawls out of Keith’s lap and collapses back into the heap of blankets on their bed. Keith rolls closer to him, hand settling on his bare back and rubbing in soothing circles.

“You okay? I wasn’t too rough last night, was I?”

“No, I’m fine.” Lance forces himself to speak up because he doesn’t want his boyfriend to worry about him too much, to second guess what little roughness he’d shown. That wasn’t the problem at all. “I just need to think. You should give me a second to wake up before you spring so much information on me.”

A few minutes passed by, and with each one Keith seemed to scoot a little bit closer to Lance’s side beneath the covers. He curls up to Lance in the end, wrapping his arms around him and cuddling him close. Lance lets it happen, a vague smile on his lips. He is still uncertain about what to do, though.

“Isn't this a horrible idea?”

“I know I won’t hurt you.”

“You _know_ that? Without a doubt?”

“I don’t always remember what I do, think, or feel as a wolf... but it’s still _me_.” Keith answers, reaching up to push Lance’s hair back from his eyes. Their gazes meet and Lance can see how much this matters to his boyfriend. It makes the decision all the more difficult. “I’m sure I still love you even when I’m transformed.”

“Keith.” Lance sighs. He knows this is Keith opening up to him again, sharing more of himself with Lance and trusting him with the knowledge. He’s at his most vulnerable on the day of the full moon and still he’s asking Lance to be there with him. Lance wants to agree, but he can’t shake the feeling of apprehension. There’s gotta be a reason Keith has never wanted him around before, beyond just being embarrassed to be intimate and open.

There’s just no way a _werewolf_ isn’t dangerous. He loves Keith and he trusts him, but some things even Keith can’t know. Hell, he just said he isn’t completely present when he’s a wolf, so maybe his mind chooses to repress the nasty stuff he does.

“It'll be a good way for us to bond. You'll understand this part of my life so much better.” Keith presses, rolling over to lay on top of Lance’s body. Lance can’t really avoid eye contact anymore like that, and Keith is smiling at him so big and hopeful he isn’t even sure he wants to. He sighs.

“Are you sure this isn't the supermoon going to your head right now?” Lance ventures. He hasn’t made up his mind yet, but in his heart he knows he’s gonna have to say no. If not for himself, then to respect Keith’s own wishes. The fact of the matter is, Lance knows he’d never ask for this on the average full moon, it’s just the whole supermoon business messing with him. “You've always been totally against it before. Normally you send me away _days_ in advance.”

“I know.” Keith whines, sounding torn up over the fact. Lance had sort of figured his thoughts were too blinded to even remember his usual outlook, but it doesn’t seem that way. Keith looks like he’s put some thought into it and reached this conclusion despite his usual opinions on the matter.

“So? What’s different this time?”

“It's too much, I need you there with me to get me through it.” Keith is whimpering now, much like Kosmo had when they found her in the park. His eyes look wet too, like he’ll start crying any second if Lance doesn’t give in. Keith isn’t usually one for waterworks, even the other day when he’d been crying over the documentaries, he didn’t want Lance to see him or be in the room. So it feels like something substantial that he’s gonna break down right there on top of Lance.

“You _need_ me? Really?” He’s only trying to make Keith see the exaggeration behind his words, but it seems like it might have been the wrong thing to say. Keith glares at him, rolling away and snatching his pajamas out of the drawer. He’s pulling them on hastily, shooting the occasional glare back at Lance where he’s still in the bed.

“I do, I _need_ you.” Keith repeats, glowering at him.

“You’ve gotten through supermoons before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but that was the only option I had back then. It was awful. If I thought there was anyone in the world who would have tried to help me, I would have asked them.” Keith’s gone inexplicably quiet, like he doesn’t really want to be talking about this. Lance can see why. He can see the genuine fear in Keith’s eyes, can see the nervous tick as he struggles to settle in his own skin, the pain no doubt starting to taunt him today.

Lance wants to help him, he really does, more than anything. He just doesn’t know if he can, if he even should. It’s more complicated than want.

“Keith, what do you want me to say right now? You have to realize why I’m not just agreeing to this.”

“I do.” Keith frowns, eyeing the place on the bed he’d just marched away from longingly. Lance pats the mattress and he still doesn’t walk back, just continues to hesitate by the door. “But I need you to please ignore your common sense, just this once.”

“Did you just say _please_? If you’re using manners this really must mean a lot to you.” Lance gasps out, trying to lighten the mood. Keith doesn’t brighten up any, he only seems to grow more broody and cold as the seconds pass.

“Lance.”

“What if you're more dangerous than you think you are?!” Lance blurts out finally, throwing his hands up into the air in exasperation. He shoves the covers back, marching over to Keith in his underwear. He knows he looks like a whirlwind approaching, ten different emotions coursing through him, but Keith doesn’t even flinch as he stomps up to him. “You said it yourself you don't always remember what you do as a wolf. What kind of idiot would I have to be to trust that?”

“I know it doesn’t make any sense!” Keith yells back, eyes flashing an angry yellow. Lance does catch a glimpse of the tail now, standing straight on end in a threatening pose. The seconds tick by and Lance stays completely still, as Keith pants heavy breaths and comes back to himself, reigns in his emotions a little bit more.

But he does. He forces himself to calm down and stops himself from doing anything he might regret later, so he does still have control over himself at least for now. Lance wants to believe him more than anything that it’ll stay like that, but it’s clear that Keith knows he can’t ever be _fully_ certain until he tests it out. Testing it out could have dire consequences if he isn’t right.

“Do you really think I’ll be safe? Be honest.”

“Yes.” Keith answers immediately. He takes no time to think about it at all. Lance quirks an eyebrow at him and Keith’s face screws up in frustration. “I'm still me, just reduced to instinct. And I know my instincts would never tell me to hurt you. That'd only be hurting myself.”

“I think that _you_ believe you’re telling the truth, so that counts for something. I just don’t know if that’s enough for me to spend the night with a literal werewolf in the woods, you know?”

“I know.” Keith’s shoulders slump, a tight frown on his lips as he visibly reverts into himself. He considers the conversation closed, that much is obvious. He’s accepted that Lance’s answer is a no and now he’s going to leave, just like that. He turns to go and Lance can’t fucking take it anymore, he caves.

“How about a compromise?”

“Yeah?”

“I'll stay until you turn for real, but _that's it_. Then I’ll get into my car and I’ll drive home. You have to let me go and stay behind.” Lance informs him, leaving no room for arguments on the matter. Keith doesn’t look like he’s going to try anyway, though. He mostly just looks relieved, more than Lance has ever seen anyone look. Keith barrels forward and hugs him.

If Lance’s being totally honest, he’s a little bit terrified, but he asked for this. In more ways than one, really. He’s wanted Keith to open up to him more and let him see into this part of his life. And he can’t deny the deep curiosity he feels whenever he thinks about it, the shameful fascination with this part of Keith that he can’t shake.

“Thanks, Lance. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m the best boyfriend ever.” Lance dismisses the sentiment with a wave of his hand, feeling overwhelmed by all the adoration in Keith’s voice. These are heavy emotions they’re dealing with, the kind they usually make a joke out of to keep things light. This is a big step for them and Lance knows they’re both aware of that, not unlike they had been with adopting a dog together.

“You are.” Keith agrees, not a hint of sarcasm there. Lance shivers, attempting to squirm his naked body out of Keith’s arms. Keith just hangs on twice as tight though, squeezing him closer.

“Stop clinging to me, I need to get dressed!” Lance screeches finally, the obvious voice crack giving away his flustered state. It’s not like Keith didn’t know anyway though, his smile wide and unabashed. He likes making Lance blush, making him feel loved. And Lance likes it too, but he’s not sure he’s equipped to handle quite this much affection. He feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Okay.” Keith relents, backing away from him with his hands held innocently in the air. Lance points a knowing finger at him when his eyes start to wander, as if noticing Lance’s state of undress for the first time now that the conversation has ended.

“Don’t even _think_ about it. We have way too much stuff to do for us to get distracted again.”

“Fine.” The sigh Keith lets out is so long it seems never ending. Lance snorts out a laugh and turns away, swinging his hips as he walks for good measure. He can feel Keith’s gaze on him, tracking his every movement as he walks around the room and goes about getting dressed for the day.

\--

In the spirit of being honest... Lance might have had a few questionable expectations for where they were headed when he got behind the wheel and told Keith to give him directions. He’d seen a few werewolf movies and shows in his day, and they might have settled with him more than they probably should have in the long-term.

Maybe he was picturing a decrepit abandoned house in the woods, crumbling in on itself. It’d come complete with heavy chains in the basement, perhaps because Keith had installed them or maybe the previous owners of the house were into weird shit. Either way, Keith would strip himself naked and lock himself up the second they got there. You know, the typical werewolf stuff. It’d be a little bit kinky and homoerotic, but Lance would pretend it wasn’t to be considerate.

Things do not live up to expectations. Instead, Keith directs him down thirty different dirt roads to the literal middle of nowhere. They haven’t seen a house in miles, there’s no reception, and not a single telephone pole in sight. It looks like they drove themselves straight into an apocalypse, the world is so void of life. It gives Lance the chills a little bit, having spent his entire life living in cities or at least towns.

He can’t even see Keith’s cute wolfy attributes anymore. At the mention of going out in public he’d pulled on a beanie, gloves, and tucked his tail into his pants. Other than the sharp teeth Lance catches a glimpse of whenever he smiles, he looks just like a normal human again. He’s not sure what to make of how that disappoints him. He’d been expecting a little more… flare, when he agreed to this.

Lance pulls the car over. It’s less a parking space and more a flat surface that’s level with the road. He’s willing to bet the only thing most people use it for is a place to turn around when they get lost on these back roads. Keith seems eager to get out of the car, twisting around to grab his things from the backseat before it’s even in park.

“Slow down, give me a second to catch up.” Lance snorts out a laugh. Keith looks at him, a chocolate bar hanging from his lips, eyes wide at being called out on his rush. Lance laughs, reaching over to snatch the beanie from his head. Keith makes an indignant muffled noise, his cute black ears perking up curiously.

“Someone could see me!”

“Who’s gonna be out here, Keith? No one in their right minds, that’s who.” Lance sticks his tongue out at him and Keith begrudgingly lets it slide. He hops out of the car and slides a backpack onto his shoulders as per Keith’s request, digging around to find the tent in the trunk too. Meanwhile Keith is figuring out where they’re headed, eyeing the forest with a sense of familiarity.

They start into the woods with all the supplies in tow. It’s just as Lance suspected, a dark and dreary place, the tall trees overhead breaking most of the sunlight. It kind of sucks, if he’s being honest. Ten mosquitos have bitten him already, he’s tripped on an embarrassing amount of tree roots, and he can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the environment for him. It’s too quiet.

Lance fills the unnerving silence with chatter, rattling on absentmindedly to comfort himself.

“Do you always go to the same place?”

“Yeah, but I travel a lot during the night. There’s no telling where I’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”

“And you always find your way back?”

“Eventually, yeah. My senses ares still pretty heightened the next day so I can rely on my scent to get me back. Well, unless wolf me decides to be an asshole and go for a swim. That sucks.”

They lapse into silence again after that, as Keith marches ahead and swats branches away with the blunt force of a machete. Lance trails behind, mind running wild with thoughts when there’s nothing about his surroundings to fixate on. It’s been a while since he’s felt this much nervous energy, and Keith must know that that’s what it is, but he’s at least being kind enough not to point it out. He looks a little buzzed himself, like he’s chugged three coffees and it’s all hitting him now.

“Hey, I've never really asked you this.”

“What?” Keith asks, quirking an eyebrow. They’ve been walking for a good five minutes or so now, and that’s just long enough for Lance’s filter to will away entirely. He has questions zinging through his mind and he can’t help that. Besides, Keith just looks so frustratingly… distracting. He’s climbing around, hiking, looking rugged as he integrates easily into the forest atmosphere. Lance can’t relate, but he can certainly admire it.

“How did you get turned?” Lance just comes right out and says it, the question he’s been sitting on for a few months now. The first time he’d started to ask, right after learning what Keith was, the look he’d received was so harrowing he didn’t bring it up again. But now he’s curious, seeing Keith in his natural habitat like this.

He immediately regrets it though, as he’s forced to watch Keith’s face screw up in obvious disgust all over again, just like last time. He backtracks quickly. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe it’s been long enough that-”

“It’s fine, Lance. You have a right to be curious.” Keith grits out. He looks like he’s having difficulty staying on topic, but he continues anyway. “I was eighteen. I'd just moved out and started living on my own. All I really had to my name was a shack in the middle of the woods that used to belong to my father. Had I known the woods were werewolf-infested I _might_ have thought twice about spending day _and_ night out working in them.”

“And what happened?” Lance whispers, fingers brushing over the rough bark of a spruce tree. He sidles closer to where Keith stopped, like he can’t keep moving and think about this at the same time, a physical weight on his chest holding him back. He stares down at the ground, doesn’t even look up when Lance moves to squeeze his hand.

“Night of the full moon. I was out working when I heard something moving in the bushes. I stood my ground. Everyone tells you not to run because anything big will think you’re prey that way. I probably should have ran, in hindsight. I might have had a chance.” Lance feels guilt swelling in his chest at making Keith recall something so obviously traumatizing. He swallows roughly, trying to imagine himself in that situation. He definitely would have ran, screaming and kicking, he can’t imagine being brave enough to _try_ anything else.

Keith is different though. He can imagine him squaring his shoulders and bulking up, thinking it’s just a common animal that he can intimidate. He can also imagine the way he would have crumpled seeing it _wasn’t_ , suddenly realizing how far he’s in over his head.

“So, it bit you? You just stood there and let it happen?”

“I didn’t have a choice anyway. When you’re in that situation, you just get hit with this feeling of total and complete helpness. There’s no running, no fighting, nothing. You’re fucked and you know it.”

“Keith.” Lance watches as Keith’s wide eyes grow wet with tears and he can’t even assume he’s just being emotional from the approaching full moon. Part of him knows this memory has a hold over Keith that just doesn’t leave, no matter how it comes back to him. Lance wants to say something, anything that might help, but Keith seems lost in his own mind. He’s still as a stone and pale as a ghost.

“I-It pounced on me and I tried to fight it off with an axe. It was… horrifying. Every time I broke away long enough to stumble away, it just tackled me down again. In hindsight, there’s no way I had the strength to get away on my own, it had to be _letting_ me. Playing with me.” Keith reflects on this like it’s the sickest part of it all, and maybe it is. Thinking you might have a chance, allowing yourself to hope, only to have it ripped away from you time and time again. That’s messed up.

“Why... would it do that?”

“It wasn’t just a big wolf, Lance, it was a _monster_ .” Keith growls, a certain tone of disgust in his voice that Lance recognizes immediately. He’s no longer insulting the thing that turned him and they both know it, so Keith just comes out and says it. “ _I’m_ a monster.”

“You are not.” Lance groans, playfully shoving his boyfriend. Keith bounces back easily, allowing himself to be engulfed in a hug. Lance squirms in close to him, cuddling into his chest. He tucks his face neatly into Keith’s chest and listens to the steady heartbeat beneath his shirt. “You are so far from a monster it isn’t even funny, Kogane.”

“What am I, then?”

“More than that, I know that much without a doubt. Stop reducing yourself to something that’s out of your control and focus on the person you are by choice.” Lance whispers, reaching down to pull Keith closer by the belt loops of his jeans. Their lips brush and Lance smiles into it. “‘Cause I _just so_ _happen_ to like him, and I hate watching you put him down.”

“Is that so?” Keith hums, pursing his lips against Lance’s. It comes as a surprise to both of them when Lance is the first to give, to reach up and turn their flirting into something more. Lance kisses him hard, trying to distract him, to coax him to relax again. He tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of Keith’s neck, pulling him in.

Keith makes a startled noise, but he quickly catches up and kisses back, slipping his tongue into Lance’s mouth with a quiet moan.

Maybe Lance should have seen it coming, but Keith quickly misinterprets what’s happening.

Heavy hands settle on Lance’s hips and press, insistently, until he stumbles and his back collides with the tree behind him. They break apart and Lance gasps for breath. He hardly even has a chance to wonder where Keith’s gone, why he’s totally detached himself from Lance’s body, when he feels fingers working at the zipper of his jeans. Lance squeaks indignantly, looking down at where Keith has fallen to his knees in front of him. Right there in the woods. Like some kind of animal!

“No sex in the woods!” Lance yelps, swatting at his boyfriend. Keith can’t bite back the growl he emits in response, deep and throaty, undoubtedly annoyed. Lance freezes, hesitantly bringing his hands back to his sides and staring wide-eyed at the man between his legs. His fingers twitch, digging into the bark of the tree, but he doesn’t dare to say anything else.

Keith looks up at him slowly, something critical in his stare as he looks Lance over. The growl is still there, just a quiet vibration that has Lance’s stomach doing all sorts of funny things. Keith doesn’t immediately back off like he normally does when Lance tells him to, instead he stays where he is. He at least looks a little bit torn, like he’s genuinely fighting with himself over the matter.

Finally, he gives in with a pathetic whine and tears his gaze away from Lance’s undone jeans. He scrubs his hands over his face, turning away and heaving deep breaths to calm himself down. Lance doesn’t miss the tremble in his hands, the disappointed pout. Keith really… struggled with that.

Maybe that should come as a red flag, but Lance is too focused on how good it feels to be wanted that much, that Keith has to put so much effort into holding himself back. A part of him wants to give in, had wanted to from the start, but now he knows how much it means to Keith and it’s hotter.

But it’d probably be pretty shitty of him to suddenly go back on his word when Keith is putting so much effort into getting himself under control, so Lance decides it can wait. They have all day, after all.

“You good?” Lance asks, approaching Keith from behind and setting a hand on his back above the bag he’s carrying. He frowns, finding the muscles beneath his hand tense and trembling even now. A good five minutes have passed, he thought he’d waited long enough.

“Why…” Keith trails off uncertainly, glancing over his shoulder at Lance. His eyes are still dark with lust, filled with a longing so strong it shakes Lance down to his core. They rake over Lance’s disheveled form, familiar and different both at the same time. “Why do you keep rubbing it in my face if I can’t _have_ it?”

Lance blinks, jaw falling open into an offended gasp.

“I am not! It’s not my fault you interpret every fucking thing as sexual!” Lance snaps, hands landing on his hips defensively. He wasn’t going to stand here and listen to his own boyfriend call him a tease. Well, at least not right now, when he’d only been harboring good intentions. “It’s not like we fucked all day long yesterday or anything, huh? You seem to forget that awful fast. I think you can last a few hours without having sex, don’t you? Or is that asking too much of your dog brain?”

“Fine.” Keith grumbles, turning away from him and stomping ahead. Lance flushes angrily, marching right along behind him, refusing to fall behind in the unfamiliar terrain out of stubbornness alone.

“Fine!” He yells back.

Except Lance is still bored. And they’re still pretty far from the campsite if Keith’s squinting at his ugly hand-drawn map is anything to go by. Plus, there’s a few more questions Lance has thought of that he wants to ask. He’s not sure if Keith will answer him now, but with every step it becomes harder to bite his tongue.

“So… did it hurt?” Lance whispers, unable to bring himself to speak up any louder. He knows Keith will pick up on it anyway and if he wants to answer, he will. Lance isn’t really sure whether to expect a response or not, he still looks irritated. They don’t fight a lot, or ever really, so Lance doesn’t see Keith like this a lot and doesn’t know how to handle it.

He feels the slightest bit… nervous around Keith today. It’s a new feeling. He can’t recall any other time in the week when he hadn’t felt completely at ease and comfortable around his boyfriend. Even now, he trusts him and knows he’s safe, but Keith is just more intense than ever before. He’s always intense before a full moon, but the full extent of that has never been directed _toward_ Lance.

“God, are you kidding? The thing damn near tore me in half.” Keith answers abruptly, huffing out a laugh so void of humor that it’s chilling. Lance pauses, coming to a stop right where he stands.

“Wait, what? Are you serious? I thought it only took one bite. One and done. It’s not like vampires where you have to die and come back to life, is it?”

“Nah, I don't think it _planned_ on turning me.”

“Well, what the fuck did it _plan_ on doing? Making you piss your pants in terror?”

“Lance, come on.” Keith is looking at him with this expectant smirk, eyebrows raised. When Lance throws his hands up in confusion, realization dawns on Keith that he really doesn’t understand. “Well, I thought I implied as much, but it wanted to eat me. Like, chow down without remorse, swallow me whole. I didn’t have a chance. But another one walked into the clearing and while they were hashing it out, they forgot about me. I passed out. Woke up the next morning lying in a puddle of blood without a scratch on my body. All of that mauling… it healed completely overnight. I don’t even have any scars.”

Eat him. It wanted to _eat him_.

Suddenly, Lance is met with an image. A giant beast prowling through the woods, not a wolf and not quite a man either, lumbering around with jagged teeth and claws as sharp as knives. It’s stronger than any living thing should be, fast enough that nothing could ever catch it if they tried, and smart. So smart it finds enjoyment in playing with its _food_ , torturing it.

Up until this conversation, Lance had been assuming Keith just turned into an actual wolf. A big, fluffy, black wolf with a heart of gold, like on Twilight. They’d cuddle and Keith would protect him like a loyal dog, it’d be a love story for the ages… not a fucking horror flick!

“I thought you weren't dangerous, you liar!” Lance knows he might be jumping to conclusions the slightest bit, but his mind is like that. It’s like a skipping record, getting hung up on the same thing and repeating it over and over again. _Eat, eat, eat_. The thing that turned Keith was out looking for a fun snack, it wasn’t filled with an innocent desire to create more of its own kind.

It was a _monster_ , after all. Monsters don’t think like that, don’t care about whether they’re alone or not.

“What? I wasn’t lying!” Keith is looking at him a little weirdly, like it still hasn’t resonated with him what exactly is wrong with the situation. Up until now, he’d believed that Lance already knew, had maybe known all along. That was very much not the case, thank-you. This was some new information and Lance immediately regretted ever hearing it.

He walked over to a tree and plopped down at the base of it, bringing his knees to his chest.

Lance sits on his own for a while, eyes closed and breathing forcibly even. Of course he notices when that changes, when Keith’s weight settles ever so gently next to him. The tension is gone between them, any anger that’d been leftover replaced with worry. Keith keeps his distance for a minute or two, simply watching Lance in his slumped state.

“Just, give me a second to breathe.” Lance insists, not for the first time. It’s been a lot more than a second, but he doesn’t know how to move on from this. It’s a lot to process. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to come to terms with it. Maybe he isn’t the best boyfriend a werewolf could ask for, he’s been living in oblivion this whole time.

“Babe, are you having a panic attack?” Keith’s tone is so very careful, the lightest of light in the darkness of Lance’s mind. He clings onto it, tries to focus on the love and affection in Keith’s voice.

Lance knows he can trust Keith. Keith’s the nicest and kindest person Lance has ever known. Being with Keith has untangled years of insecurities, trauma from abusive exes, and even repressed kinks. There’s no one in this world Lance feels more safe with. They’re going to spend their lives together. He’s gonna take Keith home to meet the family. They’re adopting a dog together! There’s nothing to be scared of.

_Keith isn’t a monster._

“Can I touch you?”

“Yeah.” Lances exhales, turning to Keith with wide eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Keith shifts slowly closer, reaching up to wipe the salt water from Lance’s face with his knuckles. He offers a smile, bittersweet in how pained it looks.

“Talk to me.”

“I thought… you were a Twilight werewolf.” Lance blubbers, bottom lip trembling like the big baby he’s being right now. Keith doesn’t seem to be judging him though. His face fills with understanding and he moves closer, dropping an arm around Lance’s slumped shoulders. Lance allows himself to be pulled into Keith’s side, losing himself in the warmth and the familiar smell.

“That makes a lot of sense, actually.” Keith chuckles, and Lance pinches him playfully for laughing at his expense right now. Keith grabs his hand and holds it, the tip of his claws poking through the gloves he’s wearing. “First of all, I didn’t lie to you. Why would I lie? I don’t have anything to gain from hurting you, you know that right? I understand now that I should have been clearer, but I didn’t lie to you. You’re safe with me now, and you’d be safe even if you stayed after the moon rises. But you aren’t, you’re leaving, so you have nothing at all to worry about.”

“I know that, but… how can you be so sure about all of this? What makes you so different from the one that turned you?”

“Let me explain better.” Keith bites his lip, his face concentrated. “I eat enough during the week leading up to the full moon that I don't let myself get ravenous like those wolves did. Hell, you stuff me like a Thanksgiving turkey until food as a concept sounds gross. I _know_ I'd be able to differentiate between a person and a meal.”

“ _Know_?”

“Know. Without a doubt.” Keith confirms, giving a quick nod. Lance just keeps staring though, unable to shake the fear that Keith is only oblivious himself, doesn’t really understand what happens during a full moon while he’s not in his right mind. Seeing his stare, Keith looks down at their hands and continues, growing more awkward the more detailed he’s forced to get. “In the final moments before I turn, I can kinda still think like a person, but I can _feel_ the wolf in my mind too. I get a glimpse of what it’s planning, what it wants, what it needs. It’s never been about food since I’ve met you, trust me.”

“What about before you met me?”

“I-”

“What if you _didn’t_ eat so much?” Lance ventures. He sees the twinge of hurt on Keith’s face and it makes him feel like the worst person to ever live, but he has to know. Has to hear Keith say it.

“I guess... that instinct would consume me. I'd eat anything.” Keith admits. “It sort of just boils down to whatever I want the most when I’m a wolf, I don’t have that impulse control that tells me not to go after it with all the strength I have. If I’m hungry, I’m gonna eat no matter how it happens. I’ll kill anything.”

“Oh.” Lance chuckles breathlessly, feeling suddenly lightheaded.

He briefly thinks back to all the food he has packed away in the cooler they’re carrying, wondering if he’d even packed enough. There should probably be more, that _definitely_ isn’t equivalent to the weight of a human body in meat. He should turn around, go back home and gather more supplies, make sure everything is perfectly-

“Lance, don’t freak out.” Keith whispers, fingers snapping in front of Lance’s face and breaking him from his reverie. Lance ducks his head in shame, blushing like mad. He wishes he were a stronger person that could just blindly put his faith in Keith, but he’s currently alone in the absolutely middle of nowhere with the guy and now he drops the bomb that his _kind_ eat people?! It would have been nice to know before Lance agreed to come here, that’s all.

“I’m not freaking out!”

“Good. It’s not worth worrying yourself over.” Keith gets to his feet dismissively, brushing himself off.

“You’re _really_ not worried?”

“Not at all. You take such good care of me there’s nothing in this world left that I could want. You give it all to me and more. You’re everything I need.” Keith looks back at him with a loving smile and holds out his hand, gloved fingers wiggling enticingly. It’s dramatic to the point of funny, Keith is clearly just saying anything he thinks will calm Lance down, but it’s okay. Lance knows Keith would never lie to him or risk hurting him, so he must really trust himself as much as he’s letting on. And against all odds, Lance finds that he’s starting to, too.

“You fucking suck-up. You know how much I love cheesy lines like that.” Lance growls, but he grabs his hand anyway. Keith drags him through the trees after that, pointing out different types of plants and signs of wildlife in the area. It’s probably the weirdest date they’ve ever been on… but it’s nice.

It’s like Keith’s at home here, more than he’s ever been in his own cabin or Lance’s little bungalow they share most nights. Keith hikes through the forest like it’s a walk in the park, grinning at the cool wind blowing through the leaves, hitting his face. Lance looks at him and sees an animal freed from a cage, happiness bursting at the seams. It’s nothing threatening, it’s beautiful.

\--

They set up camp in a clearing, the ground uneven and covered in thick moss. Keith goes about setting the tent up while Lance sits down on a nearby stump, looking around curiously. He doesn’t know the first thing about camping, couldn’t help set up the tent if he tried. Keith seems to have it down to a science anyway, he’s only done this a hundred times over.

Instead, Lance starts to take notice of his surroundings more, now that he isn’t focused on not tripping over his own gangly legs and using breathing techniques to get him through an onset of panic. The world around him that seemed devoid of life while he was in the car now seems to be brimming with it. Birds chirping in the trees overhead, all manner of bugs flying and crawling around (ew), Lance is pretty sure he even spots a rabbit while he’s sitting there waiting on Keith to finish up. It’s almost… nice. Calming in a way Lance hadn’t expected it to be.

“What do you think?” Lance jumps at the sound of Keith’s voice so close to him, a hand settling on his shoulder after to soothe him. He settles back down on the stump and nods his head, glancing around again to really familiarize himself with the area. He gets the feeling he might be back here on a monthly basis now, as long as everything goes well. That thought doesn’t annoy him as much as it would have just half an hour ago.

“It’s actually nice. I see what drew you to it.”

“Yeah.” Keith sighs warmly, breathing in the fresh air. When Lance turns to look at him, he can’t even hide the smile that graces his face. Keith’s taken the “disguise” off completely, his ears perked up in the air and his tail wagging behind him. It’s adorable. Lance feels stupid now for ever second-guessing him.

Keith doesn’t notice him staring, he’s too busy focusing on something he must hear in the distance. He turns in another direction, tilting his head to the side. He looks excited, rocking back on his heels, starting to grow antsy to get moving again after staying at the camp so long to set up. Lance can see it in his eyes, he just wants to run. “Hey, you wanna see my favorite part?”

“Is it a long walk?” Lance groans, but he’s already getting to his feet. Keith looks back at him with an amused smirk, shrugging his shoulders.

“Not really.”

“By your standards or mine?” Lance presses, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. Relenting, Keith steps closer and ducks down, knocking Lance’s legs out from under him with one sweep of his arm. The screech of outrage Lance lets out at that isn’t a quiet one, but they’re so far away from civilization that it doesn’t seem to matter to Keith.

Lance doesn’t hit the ground like a bag of bricks, though. Instead, he dips back and finds himself supported by Keith’s arms, then lifted off the ground entirely. He stares indignantly up at the smug look Keith has about him.

“I’m gonna carry you so you stop complaining.” Keith says it so matter-of-factly that it takes Lance a moment to realize he’s been insulted. By then it’s too late.

Lance attempts to squirm out of Keith’s hold, even thrashes a little bit to be a nuisance, but he finds Keith is a lot stronger than he looks like this. He doesn’t stand a chance against the heightened strength the full moon gives Keith. It’s like trying to pry metal apart. So he gives up, deciding he doesn’t really mind being carried all that much anyway.

He doesn’t stop complaining though, that’s a fight Keith’s gonna need a lot more than physical strength to win. He’d better get ready to listen to Lance’s whining for the _rest_ of his _life_.

Keith carries him bridal style through the woods and Lance finds himself holding back laughter because despite everything, this is pretty much exactly like Twilight. All Keith needs to do now is rip his shirt off to complete the scene. He loops his arms around Keith’s neck just for good measure, giggling into his chest. Keith doesn’t seem to see the humor when Lance gives his best attempt at explaining, so he doesn’t bother trying again.

It’s probably fifteen minutes later when Keith finally sets him down, gently lowering him to the ground again. Lance stretches his arms high above his head and Keith walks over to a nearby ledge, pointing to whatever’s beneath it.

“Here we are.” He sounds excited, but Lance isn’t sure he trusts that. Keith’s mind is probably mostly wolf by now, right? He could just be showing Lance a particularly smelly pile of leaves or something.

But no, what Lance leans over the edge to look down at is a raging river. There’s a waterfall below them too and Lance can’t help but gasp at how beautiful it looks. The water is bouncing off the rocks and sending mist flying up into the air, creating rainbows in the sun. Lance is immediately overwhelmed with the urge to get closer, to see it from a better angle.

“Keith, it’s so pretty. Do you know if we packed my camera?” He gasps, looking around for any sort of path down to it. When Keith doesn’t even grace him with a response, he knows he’s doing that smug too-cool-for-school thing where he makes fun of Lance for being a hipster. Lance grumbles, turning to find him. “I’m serious. If you didn’t want me taking so many pictures, you shouldn’t have bought it for-”

“Check this out!” Keith yells loudly, a bellowing shout that echoes through the trees. Lance watches a blur of movement whip past him, moving so fast he can hardly register the shape of what he’s looking at really. He doesn’t realize until it’s too late and Keith has already jumped over the edge of the actual cliff they’re standing on. He can’t rely on werewolf speed when he’s falling, nor can he use it to slow down, so he plummets to his doom at a very much human pace.

“Keith?!” Lance screams, dropping to his knees at the edge of the cliff and peering fearfully over it. He watches Keith soar through the air, curling into fetal position because he’s no doubt terrified, aware of the mistake he’s made, preparing for the impact against the cool and unforgiving surface of the-

That, or _maybe_ he’s doing a cannonball.

A giant wave forms where Keith hits the water. Lance is sure a normal person would have broken all of their bones and maybe damaged their vital organs. It might not be enough of a drop to _kill_ a person, but it’s not a safe diving height by any means. He watches closely. Waits a beat or two. Blinks. And then Keith resurfaces with a war cry.

“Woo!” Keith screams, laughing loudly. He pumps his fists in the air, hollering and making a scene of himself despite the only person to show off for being Lance. He tips back, floating on his back even as the river carries him swiftly away. He looks totally at peace even as he soars toward the rapids downstream.

“What are you _doing_?!”

“Lance!” Keith sounds nothing but amused, waving at Lance from the water. Lance scrambles to keep up with him, walking along the edge of the steep drop even as it crumbles beneath his feet. He searches desperately for a path, a way to get down to Keith before it’s too late. Keith doesn’t notice the utter terror on Lance’s face, just stretches out in a starfish position. “Get down here, you _love_ swimming!”

“Get out of there! It's November, you idiot! You're gonna get hypothermia if you don’t manage to kill yourself first!” Lance knows he sounds more like a worried parent than a boyfriend probably ever should, but he can’t help it. Keith clearly doesn’t have the common sense he was born with right now. He needs someone to look after him before something awful happens.

Lance thinks back to all the full moons he’s spent _alone_ , no doubt doing stupid risky things just like this, and he almost passes out. Here he was worrying for his own safety, when the only person at risk was Keith’s stupid self. He vaguely remembers a newspaper article from a month ago about a bear breaking into someone’s cottage home and tearing up the furniture for seemingly no reason, and belatedly puts two and two together with a loud groan.

“I’ll only get out if you come get me!” Keith looks completely serious about that, but he at least flips over and starts swimming back up the river, away from certain doom. Lance looks around hurriedly and finds a less intimidating decline closer to the waterfall. He decides to try his luck with that.

He makes it down in one piece, albeit soaked from the spray of the waterfall. He’s fucking freezing and not having a good time at all, it’s written all across his face. His tone deaf boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice or care though, just grins dumbly as he approaches like there isn’t a walking lecture headed toward him.

“Lance!” Keith beams, swimming over to the shore. Lance glowers down at him, trying so damn hard to stay upset that it isn’t even funny. But Keith is just peering up at him with this blindly loyal expression, like he can’t even comprehend Lance being mad at him. Beneath the surface of the water, little splashes appear every second as Keith’s tail wags back and forth.

Lance kneels in front of him.

“You’re ridiculous.” It’s supposed to have a lot more venom than it does. He doesn’t really sound mad, more like begrudgingly loving. Keith brightens up so much at the sound of his voice that Lance is pretty sure it wouldn’t have mattered what he said or how he said it.

“I know.” Keith grins, pushing himself up out of the water and onto the rock next to Lance. He shakes himself off much like a dog, long hair sending water flying every which way. “The moon is getting to me.”

“I’ve noticed.” Lance grumbles, getting to his feet. He watches Keith try to dry himself off, growing increasingly more frustrated when his hair continues to drip water down his neck. Eventually, he just gives up. He jumps to his feet and starts up the path Lance came from without anything in lieu of an announcement, just climbing steadily away from Lance like he has the attention span of the fishes he’d just been swimming with.

“I feel so energized! I could run laps around the world!” Keith cheers, running further up the hill. Lance drags his feet behind him, rubbing his eyes tiredly until colors dance behind his eyelids. He can hear Keith’s bounding footsteps, practically bouncing across the Earth with how much energy is vibrating around inside of him.

“Keith, slow down, I don’t want you out of my sight right n-” Lance doesn’t finish speaking before he’s tackled with the full force of Keith’s weight, arms and legs wrapping around him in a suffocating sort of hug. Lance topples backward, nearly breaking his neck and rolling all the way down the hill he’d just finished climbing, but Keith’s claws have dug into the ground to steady them both.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me.” Keith informs Lance, leaning down to nuzzle into the curve of his neck affectionately. Lance giggles, shoving him away as best he can. “You make me so happy. I want you to always come with me. Every. Single. Month.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” He couldn’t chase the warmth from his tone even if he tried. So he doesn’t bother, instead letting Keith know exactly how soft he is for the idiot wolf-boy clambering around his lap, all pointy knees and elbows. He sits up, shoving Keith into a manageable position and forcing him to concentrate for two seconds, making eye contact. “Keith? Work with me here. Stay calm.”

“I am.” Keith says, earnestly, like he truly believes he’s been nothing but helpful this whole time. Lance decides that’s an argument he isn’t even gonna try and have just yet. Keith’s in some sort of denial, unaware of just how much the pull of the moon is getting to him now that it’s past the heat of the day and moving into the afternoon. So he just nods, plastering on a fake smile.

“How about we go back to the tent and get us both out of these wet clothes?” Lance suggests, because he isn’t even sure he can do anything else until they take care of that. There’s goosebumps rising across all of his skin and he wants nothing more than to just force Keith into the tent and curl up with him there, stealing all the warmth he can from Keith’s body.

Keith’s attention had been starting to wander, toward a squirrel chattering away in an overhead tree, but at Lance’s suggestion he snaps back to the conversation at hand in an instant. He looks at Lance with dark eyes, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He looks positively fiendish.

“ _Oh_?”

“Not like that!”

\--

They make it back to the campsite even though Keith doesn’t offer to carry Lance this time, too busy getting distracted by every single thing they happen upon. He does let Lance coerce him into changing into dry clothes though, so at least there’s that. Keith packs so many spare outfits that it doesn’t matter when Lance steals one either, he’ll still have something to wear tomorrow.

Lance emerges from the tent in his new clothes to Keith hunched over in the leaves a few feet away, working to light a fire. He must be aware of Lance’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t really react, apparently void of the ability to multi-task. So he stays focused until a small flame alights in front of him. He grins like a kid on Christmas day, turning to Lance for praise.

They don’t stay by the fire long, or at least Keith doesn’t. He lasts all of ten minutes trying to roast marshmallows before he gets bored of that and takes off. He does think to drag an entire downed tree back though, offering it to Lance as a seat at the fire. That’s considerate enough, Lance supposes.

Then Keith is off, running into the trees like he can’t possibly contain himself a second longer. A part of Lance wants to follow, to hover and make sure he keeps himself safe, but he stays firmly where he is. He knows Keith will find his way back if he needs help. Lance has to trust that he can take care of himself sometimes.

So he sits there in the warmth of the fire as the evening passes by. Keith comes back every now and then, carrying with him some sort of wilderness treasure he thinks Lance will appreciate. Usually it’s a weird mushroom that’s possibly poisonous, or bones that are definitely carrying some form of infection. It’s kind of sweet, in a very disgusting way. Lance has a growing pile of presents a few feet away, where he’s been instructing Keith to put them so he doesn’t have to touch any of it.

Occasionally, their earlier conversation comes back to Lance and he starts to feel a little bit paranoid. He cooks some meat over the fire whenever that happens, practically spoon-feeding it to Keith the next time he comes back to the campsite. Keith knows exactly what he’s doing, but maybe that’s why he goes along with it instead of turning his nose up at the sixth meal Lance has offered up today. Lance appreciates it, he really does.

It’s not the worst way to spend his day, but he’s certainly glad he charged his phone before coming and he even thought to bring a good book for after it died. He’s keeping himself busy. Sometimes, Keith will saunter back to him with pleading eyes and Lance will find himself being dragged into the forest to see something important, but mostly he stays where he is. It’s nice. As much as he knows Keith was only pushing his agenda earlier when he brought it up, he really does feel like they’re bonding.

The sun is starting to set when Keith comes back this time, after being away for nearly an hour. Lance doesn’t realize it’s him at first, has to squint suspiciously into the shadows behind the trees with the way the darkness is creeping over the land. It doesn’t help that Keith is moving so much slower than before, taking his sweet time stepping into the clearing.

Lance frowns, wondering what kind of horrors he brought back this time that he isn’t even sure if he wants to show it off. If it’s _another_ dirty sock from the side of the road, Lance might have to chain him up like in the movies after all.

“What’s up? You back from your seventh marathon of the day?” Lance calls, smiling encouragingly. The shadow he’d been watching doesn’t speed up though, it only grows impossibly still. Lance blinks, trying to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He watches Keith prop his arm on a tree, leaning heavily into it in search of support. Lance is on his feet immediately, walking toward him. “Keith?”

“It’s starting to hurt.” Keith croaks, claws digging into the bark of the tree and peeling it away. Lance frowns deeper, stepping closer and sliding an arm around Keith’s waist for support. His boyfriend seems boneless all of the sudden, a stark contrast to all the energy from before. He leans heavily into Lance’s side, slumping tiredly.

“Oh, you big dumb idiot.” Lance sighs, kissing his temple. “How far away were you when it hit?”

“I don’t know.” Keith is whining, high and pained, his hand coming down to clutch at the front of Lance’s shirt as they start hobbling toward the fire. Lance can tell right away how much it must hurt, Keith’s entire arm shaking even as he holds on to the fabric in an attempt to steady himself. “Felt like the other side of the world.”

“I’m sure it did when you’re all crippled up.” Lance sits him down on the tree by the fire, grabbing a blanket from the tent and bringing it back. By then Keith has slid off the log, shivering uncontrollably as he inches himself closer to the warmth. Lance settles where he was, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and pulling him back. “Come here.”

Keith leans back between Lance’s widespread legs, head resting against the soft pudge of his boyfriend’s stomach. Lance hums the first song that comes to mind, an obnoxious pop song that Keith would complain about any other time. Right now he just basks in the attention, eyes falling closed on a wince, claws tearing at the jeans on his legs as if he can’t stop himself.

Lance takes it a step further and starts smoothing his fingers through Keith’s hair, shushing him quietly whenever his whimpers turn into cries. Full-body trembles and shakes wrack his frame every few minutes, no doubt the beginning of his transformation setting in. Lance debates detaching himself and leaving, but Keith looks so very helpless. He can’t.

He could… stay.

Maybe.

“It never stops being scary, you know?” Keith speaks up suddenly, turning his head to the side and burying it into Lance’s thigh. He breathes deep and heavy, like he’s having trouble getting air into his lungs around the pain. He noses closer, until he’s sort of just shoving his whole face between Lance’s legs, but if that’s what brings him comfort right now Lance isn’t gonna judge. He just keeps petting his hair, trying to make it easier on him.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Lance assures him, even though right now he isn’t even sure himself if he’s telling the truth. He’s realizing suddenly that even though he knew Keith went through this on a monthly basis, he had no idea what exactly “this” was. This part seems very much like the movies, Keith looks like his body is trying to stage a mutiny, tearing away at him from the inside out.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Lance insists, hand sweeping down to rest on Keith’s forehead. It’s burning up, hot to the touch to the point that Lance snatches his touch away without thinking, a natural reaction to the sheer sweaty temperature radiating off of Keith’s skin. Instead, he settles a hand on Keith’s shoulder and squeezes that in sympathy. “You have a flawless track record of always surviving it and coming back to yourself the next day like nothing happened.”

“Imagine if I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Change back.” Keith whispers, lifting his head. “What if I got trapped as a monster forever?”

His pupils are blown wide now, big black circles. The whites of his eyes are glowing faintly yellow too, only the thinnest amount of Keith’s usual purple irises visible in the fire’s light. Lance swallows, reaching up and cupping Keith’s face between his hands, biting down on his cheek to withstand the heat.

“You’d find a way back out of sheer stubbornness alone.” Lance states with certainty. Keith cracks a weak smile at that, but it gives way to a gasp when he doubles over moments later. He’s trembling, clutching at his stomach and then clawing at it. A sickening crack fills the clearing and Lance nearly gags, while Keith breaks down into broken sobs.

Lance doesn’t know what to do, so in a state of sheer panic he reaches down and grabs Keith’s wrists, trying to hold them. At first Keith’s eyes are unfocused and hazy, darting around the clearing as paranoia seems to set in, but before he can rip away from Lance’s hold he seems to realize where he’s at again.

He looks up, eyes meeting Lance’s, and takes a deep breath.

“Keep talking. Distract me. Anything.”

Keith doesn’t look like himself. There’s something unnerving about him. There’s desperation leaking into his every movement, an animal need that has Lance wondering what he’s gotten himself into. Even though he’s crippled and something crucial is definitely broken, he pushes himself through the dirt to lay by Lance’s feet. But Keith said he’s safe, that he wouldn’t hurt him… and he can’t leave now.

“You have so much waiting on you at home, no way would you let anything in this whole wide world keep you from it. You’re gonna change back and I’ll be there to welcome you with open arms when you do. Then we’ll get you cleaned up and go pick up our puppy, how does that sound?”

Keith nods, open his mouth to respond, and then screams. It’s nothing like the fearful screams that come to mind, it’s pure agony. Lance feels tears building in his eyes as Keith rolls away from him, shuddering against the cold ground. His breathing evens out after thirty seconds or so, a lull before the next wave will hit him.

Lance hadn’t really prepared for any of this. He’d planned to get out of here way before this sort of thing started to happen and more than the fear, this is exactly why. It hurts to watch, triggers every protective instinct he’s ever had at once. He’s helpless to do anything.

He does what he can. This time he makes the effort to close the space between them, crawling over to kneel next to Keith’s crumpled form. He props him up, cradling him in his arms. He whispers praise to him, stupid jokes, promises of what they’ll do once it’s all over. He even wets a cloth with cool water from the canteen and holds it to Keith’s burning forehead, though he’s sure it won’t do anything to help.

“Sounds nice. I like… having a home to come home to.” Keith responds belatedly, his eyes falling shut and words slurring together as he finds it harder to stay conscious. Lance forces back tears, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt because he doesn’t want to make it any harder.

“You bet. We’ll be home again before you know it.” Lance risks a glance up at the sky and catches a glimpse of the moon, high above their heads. He rubs his sweaty palms on his thighs and laughs, the sound tinny and forced. This is it then, he’s really gonna do this. Any other time he’s laughed in the face of his survival instincts to get off seems laughable now, and he doesn’t even have a promised orgasm waiting for him on the other side this time. Just Keith.

But that’s enough.

He senses the shift in mood before Keith starts to scream this time, convulsing against Lance’s chest as more bones inside his body break and reform, shifting into a different structure entirely. Lance squeezes his eyes shut and holds onto Keith as best he can, counting to ten over and over again in his mind, waiting for it to be over.

Eventually, Keith quiets. His breathing is still labored though, his body shaking now with something akin to the energy he’d had all day, and though he seems mostly paralyzed to move on his own… he doesn’t seem to want Lance to hold him anymore either. He’s whining in the back of his throat, moving as much as he can to try and get away, put space between them.

It’s the opposite of what he’s been doing all night, but Lance takes the hint and sets him down on the ground. He moves back a few steps, biting his knuckles as Keith’s eyes glint back at him. He must see how absolutely terrified Lance is for him, because despite it all he forces a smile and even manages a little thumbs up.

“It’s happening.” Keith manages, blinking up at him. Lance nods in understanding. He almost could have guessed. Keith doesn’t seem to be just brokenly shivering and preparing for pain anymore, there’s something else there on the verge of coming through. He’s starting to shift, only the slightest differences visible on the surface so far, but Lance knows that’ll change fast once it starts.

“Now?”

“Mm.”

“As in now, now?”

“Yes. Now’s the time you wanna leave.” Keith groans, his cheek pressed into the dirt. Something snaps again and Keith can move around once more. He uses the regained ability to tear his claws through his shirt, then at his jogging pants until they’re just shreds of fabric on the ground. The little claw marks that carried through to his boxers and leave parts of his ass exposed where it’s arched up in the air might have been funny at any other time, but right now Lance averts his gaze.

Instead he watches closely as Keith starts to change before his eyes. His body, his face, even the sounds he makes are erring into something no human should be able to. It all adds up to a pretty frightening picture, but Lance’s nothing if not determined. He takes a step toward Keith instead of away and a growl erupts out of Keith’s throat before he can start to form words again.

“What are you doing?! You need to leave now! You’re running out of time!”

“I’m staying.” Lance says, his voice filled with certainty. “I trust you.”

It doesn’t seem like Keith was expecting that. He pauses, barely even wincing at the pain because he’s so fixated on Lance all of the sudden. It’s a sort of attention that leaves Lance feeling strange, uncertain how to react to being stared at so openly. He has no idea where Keith’s thoughts are at right now, why he’s glued to Lance like a moth to a flame.

“You… trust me?” Keith repeats, voice a quiet whimper. It’s vulnerable and earnest in a way Keith even still hasn’t allowed himself to be. Until this exact moment, Lance hadn’t realized just how much this mattered to his boyfriend, how it hurt him that Lance didn’t feel safe around him before, that he’s never had anyone to share this part of himself with. He looks soft and sentimental.

Despite everything happening in that moment, he only has eyes for Lance.

“With my life.” Lance answers honestly. And, to prove his point, he demonstrates by walking over and sitting next to Keith’s trembling form. He even reaches out and places a hand on his back, rubbing it as it shifts into something unrecognizable. Keith hums happily, tail swishing back and forth between his legs, ears drooping into something content.

And then in an instant, Keith is trying to roll away from him again. Lance follows him this time though, determined to stay with him no matter what. It seems like Keith is at war with himself right now, unsure of what he really wants when there’s two different consciousnesses fighting for control of his mind.

“Fuck, Lance.” He gasps, shaking his head as Lance pulls him back in to his chest. Lance doesn’t pay any mind, brings him in close and shoves Keith’s face into his neck like he knows he likes. Keith does relax visibly at that, inhaling deeply and lapping his tongue over the fading bitemarks he’d left there the day before. Eventually, he speaks up again through his teeth, voice raspy. “L-Listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m glad you trust me, but… I don’t know if you _should_ right now.” This voice is weak and exhausted, but it’s more like Keith than the growls and grumbles from before. Keith’s fist tightens around Lance’s shirt as he finishes, tearing a hole in it with his claws unintentionally. Lance goes tense, a chill creeping up his spine as he registers the message _his_ Keith has been trying to give. It’s a little bit late though.

Keith is lapping at his neck with growing urgency now, burning hot breath ghosting over the wet skin he leaves in his wake. And suddenly it feels less like something he’s doing to calm himself down and more like testing the waters… getting a taste of what’s to come.

“W-What? Why not?” Lance asks, trying to untangle himself from Keith. The task proves a lot more difficult without Keith trying to help though. Each time Keith forces himself to let go, he grabs again before Lance is out of arm’s reach, tearing his clothes more than once in the process.

Lance gives in eventually, holding his head high and trying not to cry as Keith curls around him and nuzzles into his neck again. Suddenly, he understands what Keith meant better than ever before. He isn’t even fully shifted yet and already Lance feels helpless, like there’s nothing he can do to save himself.

“I feel… different.” Keith answers a minute or two later, the words hard to distinguish as his throat becomes less human and more animal. They’re spoken like a growl, coming from deep in the chest. It’s hard to say if it’s Keith or the wolf trying to talk to him right now, they seem to be melding together into one. Lance hates that thought as soon as it crosses his mind.

“It’s probably the supermoon?” Lance offers shakily, hopefully.

“No.” Keith kills that idea in one fell swoop, not even entertaining it.  “Never... like this.”

“Like what?” Lance dares to ask, even though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Keith is still sniffing and licking at him, like a dog examining a new treat. Lance doesn’t want to admit it, but there’s no other way to excuse how Keith is latched onto him and refusing to let him go. He isn’t looking for comfort right now, not when he’s in another lull before the pain returns.

“ _Want_.” Keith grunts, claws flexing and digging sharply into Lance’s back, hard enough to draw blood. He gasps, squirming weakly in Keith’s hold. There’s nowhere to go, he doesn’t have a hope in hell of getting back to the car, and even then he’s pretty sure Keith could claw his way in to him if he really wanted to.

He should have left when he had the chance.

“So you need food? You’re hungry again? I can grab the steaks, I won’t even force you to eat them cooked. If you just let me get up I’ll-” Lance is talking so fast the words are slurring together, barely even distinguishable. It doesn’t seem to matter either way, Keith isn’t listening to him. He knows in his heart that he’s only wasting his breath, there’s absolutely nothing he can do to stop Keith from whatever he has planned. There’s no way out of this. His boyfriend is going to eat him alive.

Keith’s tongue drags across his neck and at this point it’s sick, the skin is soaked and slimy, the cool night air making goosebumps rise there. It seems like Keith’s quite pleased with his work though, as he pulls back and admires it with those chilling new eyes of his.

“No food.” Keith says suddenly, just when Lance had been starting to think he’d lost the ability to speak now. He still looks mostly human, but there’s hair growing in all over his skin and his jaw is shifting into something long and pointed. It’s unnatural, Lance hurriedly looks away.

“No food? You don’t want food?” Lance asks, taking a risk and reaching for a nearby rock. Ironically enough, it’s one that Keith brought back to him earlier in the day, pointing out the pretty crystals that shined in streaks all over it. Now Lance clutches it in one hand, trying to breathe evenly as Keith simply sits there staring at him. It’s somehow worse than having his neck chewed on, just the unnerving attention with which he’s being examined.

“Don’t… want.”

“If you don’t want food, what do you want?” Lance musters what’s left of his courage and looks at Keith as he asks, prepared to raise his hand and bash that rock directly between Keith’s eyes. He freezes though, because Keith is so much closer than he’d been expecting. Face just an inch from his, still resembling a human’s more than a wolf’s despite how unfamiliar it’s becoming.

Lance stays as still as possible as Keith leans the slightest bit closer, brushing their noses together.

“ _You_.” Keith growls, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Lance feels his world crumble in on him, his panic increasing tenfold in just a few short seconds. He starts to squirm again, trying to thrash out of Keith’s hold. Those arms don’t budge though, keeping him pinned where he is with Keith on his lap, completely transfixed in watching Lance’s struggle.

“M-Me?” Lance stutters, eyes widening. He blinks back tears, swallowing his pride and leaning closer to the threat, resting their foreheads together. Keith lets out a pleased noise at the closeness, licking his lips and pressing the rest of his body even closer. “You really want to eat _me_? Your boyfriend? Who you love so much? You would miss me, wouldn’t you?”

For a second Keith’s eyes just stare unblinkingly back at him, like he doesn’t understand the questions being asked. They’re void of humanity, no comprehension behind them. And he wonders if this is it, if Keith’s fully transformed now. He doesn’t really look like a wolf, his face is just a little misshapen and he’s grown a lot of hair, but for the most part he still looks like himself. Lance has seen more convincing furry cosplayers. So maybe it isn’t as bad as he was imagining?

But then Keith gasps, stumbling backward out of Lance’s lap. And as much as Lance has been waiting on the chance to run, he finds himself glued to the spot as Keith starts to writhe around on the ground, curling in on himself and screaming some more. Except now it’s distorted, more like a howl than anything else. Before there’d only been the occasional sickening crack, but now it’s like every bone in his body is snapping at once and it’s _disgusting_.

And now it’s happening, really happening. Lance had been a fool to think that might be the end of it before. Keith is growing in size into something hulking and intimidating, body now covered in fur, legs shifting into something strong and animal-like that could easily catch Lance if he were to run now. And while his arms and chest still have the vaguest human shape, his face is quickly morphing into something entirely wolf. A long snout complete with a wet nose, lips pulled back to reveal rows of sharp teeth as he howls out in pain. And yet, even still, he finds the strength to turn his head in Lance’s direction and watch, with so much intent that it sends a chill right through Lance.

Keith collapses to the ground, looking over at him. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but no sound comes out, only a low grunt. Lance is pretty sure he gets the message though, knows that whatever part of Keith is left in there is begging him to run while he can.

Lance doesn’t hesitate now, when he’s looking at a horror-movie monster slowly regaining its energy and getting ready to come after him. He knows that every second matters if he has any hope in hell of getting out of here. He jumps to his feet and takes off in the direction he thinks they might have come from, though it’s dark now and he can’t really be sure.

There’s something uniquely terrifying about sprinting through the woods after dark in itself, narrowly avoiding running into trees when the moonlight shifts and you see there’s another one in front of you. As Lance stumbles over his feet and trips over roots more than he ever did in the sunlight, he suddenly gets it. He gets why they always trip right before the killer is upon them, how could they not? He can’t see a goddamn thing!

So far, he’s making good progress. He’s not sure he’s ever seen this clearing before, but at least he isn’t running into trees every two seconds. He keeps running, like he’s back in junior year of highschool when he tried out for track to impress a girl he liked. He runs until his thighs burn, his twisted ankles protesting every step with shooting pain right through his body. But he won’t stop now, he can’t. He has to be strong for both of them, Keith wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he killed Lance.

Lance hears something behind him. A branch snapping in the distance. He runs twice as fast then, faster than any human is capable of, he’s pretty sure he’s Usain Bolt right now going for the gold.

He doesn’t even look where he’s going, only knows that it isn’t back there.

He hasn’t heard anything for awhile and that has to be a good sign, maybe Keith lost interest and went to go eat a deer instead. Lance can’t really breathe anymore and his entire body is aching, so he slows down to a jog and glances over his shoulder. He comes to a complete stop, perplexed. There’s nothing behind him. With the sheer size Keith was growing to, he’s sure he’d see a shadow somewhere in the clearing if he was there. But there’s no shadow, no movement, no sounds.

Except, distantly, he can hear running water.

He turns around to try and figure out where it’s coming from, not wanting to run straight into that giant river from before, but he completely forgets what he was thinking about because he comes face to face with the very thing he’d been evading with his life. How Keith circled around and got ahead of him, he’ll never know. But the beast is standing only a few feet away from him, so quiet Lance hadn’t even heard it approach. He gulps.

He’s not sure what to make of the way it’s looking him over. It paces around him in circles on four legs, despite the fact it’s front legs still look pretty much like giant human arms, still have hands and long clawed fingers that are curled under into fists. It circles him, never coming any closer, but never taking it’s eyes off of Lance either. It sniffs the air around him. Curious.

That’s good, Lance can work with curious. Maybe Keith doesn’t know what to make of him yet either, is trying to figure out whether he’s lunch or not. It’s not like he usually encounters humans way out here in the woods on a full moon. Lance has a chance to establish himself as something other than a meal.

“Keith, sweetheart, it’s me.” He whispers, but the fear is doing all sorts of things to his voice and suddenly he realizes he’s been crying. He swipes the tears from his face, tries to stop the trembling of his bottom lip. He inhales deeply and then exhales.

Keith has stopped moving, sitting in the grass and staring at Lance. And Lance remembers Keith’s story from before, about how he shouldn’t have stayed and he should have ran, but Lance knows there’s no way he can outrun this creature. He doesn’t have a good option. So he does possibly the dumbest thing he can do in that moment and takes a step closer, breaching the distance the beast has been keeping between them and stretching his hand out toward it. “You _know_ me.”

Slowly, eyes never once leaving Lance’s face, the beast leans closer and shoves its nose into the palm of Lance’s hand. It sniffs a few times and Lance thinks maybe he’s done it, maybe he’s found his way out of this nightmare and all he had to do was try to appeal to Keith’s human side, but then the wolf is growling something low and predatory. It has the hairs on the back of Lance’s neck standing high. He’s heard dogs make noises like that, it’s not good. There’s no world where that’s good.

“Please, no! I don’t wanna die!” Lance screams, taking off again. He runs in a random direction, sobbing as he goes because he _knows_ he can’t keep it up. He’s tired and hurting and even without those disadvantages he wouldn’t stand a chance.

He trips again and this time he knows he won’t have the chance to get back up, he knows it. He can hear the thudding footsteps behind him each time Keith’s paws dig into the ground again. So Lance rolls over onto his ass, backing away from him in a crab walk. He’s not gonna die with his back turned.

Keith’s right fucking there, hanging back a few steps again so he can simply stare, no doubt sizing Lance up and making sure he’s not a threat. Lance is thinks he’s established that much by how he keeps screaming and running away, but Keith is cautious. He’s not stupid, after all.

Lance crawls away backward, crying uncontrollably as he goes. He’s barely putting space between them at all he’s moving so slowly and disjointedly, squirming away like an injured animal. Every time he moves any distance at all, Keith just takes another hulking step and all of Lance’s progress was for nothing.

Suddenly, Keith stands up on his hind legs. He sniffs the air a few times, looking around Lance like he’s surveying the area. Then he crouches down, body still tense, ready to pounce.

Lance whimpers and curls in on himself, trying to protect his head at least. “I love you! I love you so much, Keith, _please_ don’t do this.”

He doesn’t hear it when Keith jumps, but he feels it when he lands. Not in the sense there’s suddenly claws and teeth tearing into him, but because it knocks him over. He falls into the grass, lying there on his back with wide eyes because Keith is on top of him now. He has four legs spread out on all sides of him and Lance is staring at the muscular outlines of his abdomen. Lance blinks.

He leans back, trying to put space between them, and finds there’s nothing underneath him to support his head. He looks down, a scream leaving his lips to see the abrupt and sudden drop-off he was about to crawl into. It’s the ravine from before, the rapids of the river sloshing a good thirty feet below them. He knew he heard water earlier, but with all the crying he hadn’t known he was running _toward_ it.

_Keith_ knew though, his hearing so acute that he had to have.

Lance looks up again. Keith is still crouched over him, but he doesn’t feel quite so caged anymore. He feels sort-of safe, knowing that the only thing standing between him and falling to his painful doom is Keith’s arms. He takes a shaky breath and reaches ever so slowly up, settling a hand on Keith’s chest over where he thinks his heart might still be. He threads his fingers through the fur covering the skin, slightly surprised to find it’s actually pretty soft.

Keith startles slightly at his touch, looking down underneath himself and nosing at Lance’s hair. If he wanted to, he could take a bite right now and that’d be that. Lance is pinned underneath him, his head within reach of Keith’s teeth if he were to use them. But he doesn’t, just keeps right where he is, like he’s scared Lance might crawl into off the cliff still if he moves.

“You saved me? You know who I am?” Lance asks quietly, holding his breath. Keith doesn’t freak out at the sound of his voice and go savage on him. He just gives a small whimper, dragging his tongue through Lance’s hair and leaving it swooped in the front with saliva. Lance gags as discreetly as he can because as disgusting as that was, he’s pretty sure it was _meant_ to be affectionate. “Oh, thank God, I knew you were still in there s-”

He doesn’t finish speaking before Keith backs up off of him, gently nudging him away from the edge with his nose. So Lance listens, because he wanted to put space between him and that drop anyway, and because he knows better than to try and disobey the giant monster that he’s only half sure doesn’t want to eat him right now.

In fact, when they’re away from the edge, Keith only seems to grow more insistent in his efforts. He nudges Lance repeatedly, with growing force until each press of his nose into Lance’s tailbone has him stumbling forward and nearly falling over. Lance tries slowing down, speeding up, even nervously turning around to face Keith. It’s always more of the same, pushing him around as if trying to herd him.

“What?!” Lance hisses finally, even though he’s pretty sure Keith doesn’t understand English at the moment, because how the hell is he supposed to know what Keith wants right now?!

He turns around expectantly and Keith immediately crouches down, like he’s going to pounce again. He doesn’t, he just stays there, tail wagging expectantly. Lance pales. He recognizes this, the building tension, the playfulness.

“You wanna chase me?” He asks the question mostly for his own benefit, trying to figure out how he feels about that. It’s sort-of fun when Keith is still physically human, they laugh about it and Keith brags about how much faster he is. It’s not even always a sexual thing, at least not for Keith, sometimes it seems like he just has fun with showing off his speed. But the thing is, it’s _always_ been a sexual thing for Lance, the first time it happened he spent weeks jacking off to the thought of Keith chasing him down and pinning him to the ground.

Needless to say, Lance isn’t really feeling it right now.

The beast trembling with anticipation in front of him doesn’t exactly look like it’s going to take no for an answer though, if the full-body wiggles are anything to go by. And because it’s cute and Lance can absolutely think of worse ways to spend the night, he throws his hands up in defeat. He turns and takes off, running considerably slower than he usually would because he’s still exhausted and his ankles are definitely sprained.

Despite knowing he could if he wanted to, Keith doesn’t immediately knock him back down. He lets Lance get a good head start, all the way out of the clearing and back into the woods. Lance slows down a little bit then, thinking the trees will make it harder for Keith to come after him anyway with his size right now.

Lance keeps glancing behind his shoulder, smiling to himself stupidly at the bizarre turn of events the night has taken. He wonders how long they’ll keep this up, if Keith will just want to play cat and mouse until the sun comes up again. He’s not sure he can handle that right now.

Against all odds, Keith’s size doesn’t give him away at all. Lance can’t hear or see him coming, but he knows he must be following him by now. A good ten minutes have passed and Lance is just sort of stumbling through the woods, glancing around constantly to try and figure out where Keith is gonna come from when he inevitably pounces.

Lance ends up stumbling across the campsite entirely by accident, the flickering flames of the fire standing out to him even through the trees. He starts toward it, only to hear a telling growl from behind him, a warning. So Lance turns around and heads back into the woods, a scowl on his face as he continues to run around, waiting for Keith to hurry up and catch him already. How fun can this possibly be for him when Lance is barely moving at the pace of a walk?

It’s the drawing it out that does something to Lance. At first it’s just annoyance, he’s frustrated with Keith for not getting this over with when he knows he can. The longer it goes on though, Keith occasionally growing close enough to tease him with a growl or a glint of eyes in the darkness, the more Lance starts to get into it.

He’s trying now, even though he should know he doesn’t have a chance. He runs through streams, hides behind rocks, even climbs a tree at one point to watch Keith’s hulking form walk stupidly right past it. And now that there’s a chance, however slim, that he can get away... Lance finds the game more interesting.

He wanders with purpose now, after finding some landmarks that stand out to him as familiar. He runs even though his body begs him not to, giggling when he hears pounding footsteps gaining on him. When he runs out of the treeline onto a dirt road, he wants to sing with joy because that means he’s won, right? He can even see his car up the road, so he starts toward it.

He’s not that far away when he’s overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched, by something in the trees. It sends a chill down his spine, his breath catching in his throat. Keith is so close behind him, he’s barely even staying ahead. He breaks out into a sprint and makes it all of three steps before he’s falling to the ground, the full weight of the wolf settling on his back and pressing him down into the dirt.

“No fair! You could have let me win that one.” Lance complains vocally, because for a second there he’d really had his hopes. The car is only ten feet away from them, damn it!

Keith doesn’t really deign his whining with a response, only shoves him just that little bit harder into the ground, making sure he stays put. Lance doesn’t budge, he knows the drill. Now he gets to be shamed while Keith gloats about his physical prowess, about how easy it was. It’s part of the routine and as much as he hates it, he also doesn’t.

Apparently even as a wolf, old habits die hard. Keith prances around him, stopping to lick at his skin or nudge him with his nose, pushing him around. Playing with his newest trophy.

It goes on for a few minutes and Lance figures he’s had his fill, so he goes to get up. It’s apparently not time for that yet. Keith doesn’t just place a clawed hand on his back and push him down again, he splays himself over Lance’s back and pushes him down with the whole of his body weight.

“Alright, I get it. You win. I lose. You’re faster and stronger and smarter than me. You’re the best. You can get off now.” Lance snaps at him, turning his head to try and glare defiantly up at him. Keith is being rougher than necessary and those giant arms actually hurt a little bit where Keith’s got them bracketing Lance’s sides, squeezing his ribcage. Lance goes to move and Keith growls and even snaps at the air near his face, so he stills.

He stills for all of two seconds, when his whole body is rocked forward by Keith’s hips slamming against his ass. He yelps indignantly, trying to push up from the ground with his arms. It doesn’t matter though, Keith’s weight is holding him down and his arms are holding him perfectly in place. Lance has nowhere to move, not even an inch. So he’s forced to feel it when Keith repeats the motion, over and over again, his hipbones hitting Lance’s ass with bruising force.

Lance’s face is on fire.

“Are you serious right now?” He shouts, frustration growing. Keith shows no signs of even hearing him, just keeps humping him with growing urgency. Lance glares up at the stars in exasperation, feeling the fabric of his sweatpants get soaked through with a frankly unsettling amount of liquid. He’s pretty sure he’s been pissed on at first, so he risks a glance underneath himself, between his legs. And oh.

Not that anything about this looks like his Keith right now, but that dick is _certainly_ not Keith’s. It’s long and dripping with pre-cum, a pale pink where it extends from the sheath. And god, Lance knows. He knows in his mind, his heart, his gut… Keith is gonna fuck him with that. There’s gonna be no getting out of this one. He’s horny, he caught his prize, and now he wants his reward.

It’s familiar in a way, but Lance had never realized just how much he was taunting the beast with their games. He’s thought about it, Keith finally losing his cool and just snapping, taking exactly what he wants from Lance’s body. He never thought it’d happen like this, when he can’t even recognize the cock being dragged between his ass cheeks, but when has anything ever gone as Lance plans it?

“Oh, you’re _so_ getting neutered after this, just you wait.” Lance mutters in resignation, but he knows there’s no use fighting it right now. A small, niggling voice in the back of his mind keeps telling him that he doesn’t even want to. That’s somehow the scariest part of all of this.

Keith hops off of him after that, licking up the mess he’s made (which, gross) and then nosing insistently between Lance’s legs. Lance bites his lips to hold back any noises as Keith’s cold nose brushes up against his balls through the fabric, but it’s no use. Keith must see the way he tenses, thighs trembling where they’re spread wide. Keith only presses more insistently, lapping his long curling tongue between Lance’s legs against the underside of his erection.

Lance cries out, reaching back with one hand to weakly try and shove Keith’s head away. It works, but that’s suspicious enough that Lance doesn’t even relax. Sure enough, seconds later and there’s claws digging at the waistband of his pants, rough enough to slice through his skin underneath. The noise Lance lets slip now isn’t pleasured, it’s definitely pained. He yelps, squirming away from the touch, feeling the sting as blood wells to the surface of each slash on his hips.

Keith pauses to lap it up, crying quietly. Lance knows Keith isn’t gonna just give up though, that he’s gonna go right back to the goal at hand any second now. So, in the spirit of speeding up the inevitable, Lance steels his nerves and reaches back to slide the shredded-up pants down his legs. He hesitates with his underwear, but in the end he shoves them down too. It was only a matter of time anyway, and they’re so soaked already they hardly protect anything. Or at least, that’s what Lance tells himself to justify the fact he’s quite literally baring his naked ass to a beast right now.

He half expects Keith to mount him again just like that, fuck him like an animal would with absolutely no remorse. He isn’t sure why that has him rubbing his thighs together, a sickening sort of thrill clenching in his gut. He shoves his hips up higher, hiding his face in the crook of his arm. What the hell is he doing?

He hears movement behind him and prepares for the pain, the inevitable burn of the stretch as Keith shoves his way inside him. It doesn’t come though, replaced instead by that long wet tongue darting between his cheeks without any fabric to hinder it this time. Lance bites down on his arm to keep from moaning. Keith starts a steady pace of it then, until saliva is dripping down Lance’s taint and to the dirt below. It’s so wet it feels like someone’s poured a whole bottle of lube over his ass and he knows how obscene it must look.

When Lance unknowingly tilts his hips up a little bit more and Keith’s tongue finally catches on the rim of his hole, the sensation is suddenly something different entirely. Lance nearly screams, shaking as Keith doubles his efforts, licking forcefully until his tongue slips inside. It’s the strangest sensation, Lance has never had something so… flexible inside of him before, not of this size anyway. It presses up against his inner walls, stretching him out in all directions, making sure he feels every fucking bit of it.

“O-Oh, fuck. Fuck, Keith, stop it! This is weird!” Lance babbles, hands sliding across the dirt for purchase and only really managing to scratch his palms up in the process. Keith doesn’t relent, only grunts and pushes his muzzle closer, driving his tongue deeper inside of Lance’s loose hole. Lance can’t stay still, even though he knows Keith wants him to and it’s frustrating him how Lance is writhing around on the ground, uncertain whether he wants to escape the mortifying pleasure or just give in. “ _Ah, ah, ah_ —”

Lance comes. He comes without even touching his dick. Streaks of white shoot across the ground, some even landing on the underside of his chin with the way his body is bent. The pleasure is so intense there’s nothing he can do but tense every muscle in his body and simply _feel_ it.

He clenches around Keith’s tongue and chokes out a weak sob, pressing his hips back and riding the sensations through his high. Keith doesn’t understand either, doesn’t slow down in the slightest now that Lance is overstimulated and sensitive. If anything, he picks up the pace, growing impatient to feel that pleasure himself. He eats Lance out like it’s his goddamn job, his tongue curling and flexing inside of him, getting him all loose and sloppy.

And Lance keeps waiting for it to end, for Keith to have his fill and move on. But ten minutes later and he’s still fucking going and Lance can feel another orgasm creeping on him, so he does what anyone would do and… okay, maybe not anyone. The point is, Lance provokes the beast.

He leans forward until Keith’s tongue slips out of him with a wet squelch, an unimpressed possessive growl following. But Lance doesn’t try to run away, so Keith has no reason to pursue. Instead Lance backs up into him, raising his ass into the air and, despite the blush enveloping his entire body, even shakes it back and forth a bit. Because, hey, there’s no shame in a little enticing to get what he wants.

Not that he’s ready to admit he wants this yet, that feels like something that’ll take time. And maybe therapy. Or at least a very open-minded kink forum online.

Keith gets with the picture pretty damn quick after that. He tilts his head back and howls, long and loud, no doubt calling out to every other werewolf in the world that he’s about to bust a fat nut. And then he hops up onto Lance again, and before he’s even holding on, his hips start thrusting. It’s clumsy and Keith doesn’t get anywhere near inside of him. His dick is huge after all, it’s gonna need some guiding and Keith doesn’t look like he’s gonna use those huge clawed werewolf hands to do it.

So Lance sits there with humiliation brewing through him, making his dick leak weakly onto the Earth beneath him. Is he really gonna reach back there and physically _help_ this actual monster stick its dick into him? Really? Is that what his life is now?

“It’s not even gonna fit.” Lance complains loudly, as Keith continues to rut into the slick line of saliva between Lance’s ass cheeks. He must be getting something out of it because he’s going faster now, pulling Lance’s body back into each thrust. But it’s not doing fuck all for Lance and damn it, he’s just gonna bite the bullet on this one and do it.

He reaches back between his legs, and not even a second later he feels Keith’s dick hit his hand, dripping with so much pre-cum that it soaks his palm. Needless to say, he doesn’t grab it that time, instead taking a moment to reevaluate his life choices. But Keith is whining, growing increasingly more frustrated and rough, his claws scraping against Lance’s sides in a delicious sting. And well, okay, fine.

Lance fumbles around a bit before eventually managing to wrap his fingers around the base of Keith’s cock. He grips it tight, even as the pressure seems to trigger every instinct in Keith to fuck, to mate, to breed. He speeds up his hips and it’s all Lance can do to hold on to the damn thing despite how big it is, because it’s _slippery_.

With a bit of struggle and shoving his ass back in an attempt to spear himself with it, Lance eventually feels the tapered head of Keith’s cock at his entrance. It leaks pre-cum like a faucet and he feels it spill into his loose hole already, searing hot. He inhales shakily. Keith’s hips have paused for a second, like he understands now. That’s a relief. “Go slow, you hear me? You’ve gotta _promise_.”

And Keith whines, leaning over him to lap at the nape of Lance’s neck, soft and gentle-like. Lance smiles to himself, reassured, and starts to push his hips back and take it in one inch at a time. He barely gets the first inch in before Keith bucks his hips and drives it home in one smooth thrust.

“Ah! God, you bastard!” Lance screams, dropping his hand from Keith’s length because there’s nothing left to hold onto anyway, it’s all fucking inside of him. All of it. And hell, the stretch of it burns, he’s never taken something so big in his life and even Keith’s tongue can only prepare him for so much. He feels the slide of tears down his cheeks as he tries desperately to relax around the intrusion, to get used to it.

Keith doesn’t give him the reprieve of staying still for longer than a second or two before he starts fucking into him, panting heavily against his neck. He uses Lance’s entire body for leverage, jerking him back and forth like a ragdoll, nothing more than a hole to use and bury his cock into. It’s degrading, being reduced to that, and Lance loves it.

He loves it even through the pain, so much so that his own cock hangs hard and heavy between his legs. He thinks he could come again already, with his back pressed to Keith’s fuzzy chest and Keith’s wet cock painting his insides with pre-cu. God, Lance can only imagine what it’ll be like when he comes. There’ll be buckets of the stuff, it’ll drip down his thighs, he won’t be able to keep it in no matter how hard he tries.

Lance wonders what would happen if a car pulled up this road right now and caught a glimpse of them in the headlights. Some poor late night explorers would have to witness this, Lance split open on a monster cock, delirious with the feeling as Keith takes him like the animal he is. They probably wouldn’t even stop to help, not because Keith’s a literal fairy tale horror, but because Lance is such a sick fuck that he’s _into_ that.

He’s not even struggling anymore, he’s pressing his hips back to take more.

Keith fucks him like he’s dying for it, like it’s everything he needs in that moment. And with a belated realization, Lance supposes that it is. Keith had warned him after all, whatever the wolf wanted. Lance was the idiot who turned down all of advances today, unknowingly driving him further and further into this headspace of lust and nothing else. He’d been so worried about being eaten by the big bad wolf and yet he’d been a walking temptation, what Keith wanted but couldn’t have.

So now Keith takes it. He takes it without remorse and without care, driving into Lance like the whole universe is reduced to just the two of them and the urge to get off. It’s definitely fucked up, Lance isn’t going to try and deny that, but he’s also already made it this far. He’s done the worst and he doesn’t seem to have an option to stop, so he lets himself… enjoy it.

He rocks with Keith’s body, moaning loudly each time the head of that massive cock hits his prostate with its full force. Then he comes a second time, crying and gasping, white knuckled in the dirt as his release dribbles weakly from his cock. It’s too much too soon, but it’s so damn good. Lance feels high with it, like he could get drunk on this sensation, addicted to the feeling of coming untouched on a cock that isn’t even fucking human anymore.

Instead of letting himself dwell on it, feel the shame and guilt over what he’s stooped to, he tips his head back and stares up at the moon overhead. A mocking little howl leaving his lips as a joke.

The joke is well-received because Keith copies him with a much deeper and longer howl, speeding up his pace until Lance is pretty sure he’s gonna die by forced orgasm. He’s not sure he can handle another so soon, but Keith doesn’t care. Keith just wants to fuck him and fill him like a pretty cocksleeve and nothing more.

He feels it when something starts to change suddenly, when the repetitive drag of Keith’s dick in and out of his body becomes uncoordinated and sloppy. Lance knows what’s coming and he moans at the thought of being filled, eyes falling closed. That’s also when he feels the first added pressure against his rim when Keith slides home again. Lance furrows his eyebrows together, looking over his shoulder only to have Keith snap at him again.

“What _is_ that?” Lance asks in an angry hiss, even as he obediently lowers his head again and lets Keith continue to have his way with him. It’s bothering him though, because what starts out a barely noticeable foreign stretch quickly becomes something that won’t fit inside of him anymore. It’s keeping him from taking Keith as deep as he was before and he pouts petulantly, reaching back between his legs to try and feel it.

It takes him maybe an embarrassing amount of time, maybe not, to recognize that Keith’s wolf dick comes equipped with a knot. A flared base that’ll only grow more once it’s inside of him, to lock all of Keith’s seed inside of his body and make sure it takes, that he ends up bred like the bitch he is right now.

And isn’t that just the cherry on top of the cake, really? Why not tack another terrible kink onto the list of many? Let Lance lie there and think about the way Keith’s instincts are desperately telling him to fill him, stuff him so full of cum he has no chance of not winding up knocked up with their babies. And sure, biology doesn’t work like that and thank god it doesn’t, but there’s something about it that has Lance’s spent dick giving a pathetic twitch of interest.

At this point Lance is too far gone to try and avoid the inevitable, so exhausted from two climaxes in a row that he just lets his body slump and relax.

Keith speeds up at the sign of submission, gripping his sides tight as he screws him into the dirt. Lance feels the pressure on every thrust now, pressing insistently against his rim and threatening to slip in as Keith applies more and more force. Lance bites his lip, keening when Keith finally manages to shove it in.

There’s no way the knot’s coming back out after that, especially not as he feels it continue to expand inside of him. It stretches him out, pressing insistently against his rim and making him feel so damn full it isn’t even funny. Keith’s shallowly rocking his hips now, the speed and the urgency gone, because he has no need for them. He’s gonna spill inside of Lance either way now, neither of them have any say in the matter. He got what he wanted. Took it.

When Keith starts to come, Lance is surprised to find how much he can _feel_ it. It’s not a few weak juts and then it’s over, it’s a steady stream hitting the deepest parts of him. It’s searing hot, so hot it almost hurts as it paints his insides white all over. Keith is rocking against him in a weak grind, whimpering as he spills himself into Lance’s willing body.

And it doesn’t let up, it just keeps on coming. Keith’s knot does its job and keeps it all inside, but there’s not really anywhere for it to go. Lance looks down and finds his stomach has a pouch to it, distended by the sheer amount of cum sloshing around inside of him. And he reaches down to cup his hand over it, only to whine pathetically when he feels the head of Keith’s cock from the outside, still weakly rocking into him.

Eventually, it seems to subside, though it’s hard to tell at that point because Lance is so sickeningly full of the stuff that what difference would more make? He waits for Keith to pull out of him just like that, uncaring and unbothered now that he’s done the deed. Lance tenses in anticipation to try and salvage some of his dignity by keeping what little he can inside, but Keith doesn’t pull out.

Keith only leans closer, nudging Lance’s head to the side. Before he can even think about what’s happening, Keith is claiming the space he’d just made... and biting down hard on the side of Lance’s neck.

Sharp teeth dig into his skin and Lance’s jaw drops open, no noise coming out even as he desperately tries to scream. He can feel blood rolling down his skin and falling to the ground in heavy drops. It came out of nowhere and he can hardly breathe around the amounting panic.

For a terrifying moment, he thinks Keith has just ripped his throat out and he’s really gonna be that guy who gets found dead on a dirt road with no throat and also ten liters of werewolf jizz leaking out of his ass, because why wouldn’t he be that guy?

But then Keith is gently backing off, easing his jaw open and then hurriedly licking at the wound. And oddly enough, it feels _good_ , it lessens the sting immediately and Lance finds himself careening his neck to the side to allow Keith easier access. Keith makes a needy noise in the back of his throat and suddenly, when Lance isn’t at all prepared for it, he angles his hips backward and his cock slips out of Lance’s body with a wet squelch.

And before Lance has to endure maybe the worst moment of his life as all of that werewolf jizz inevitably spills _out_ of him, Keith replaces his cock with his tongue and licks up any of the overflow. He’s even more gentle than before, lapping it up slowly, almost like he’s tired himself out now. He only stops a minute later, and even then it’s to lovingly nuzzle his face against Lance’s right butt cheek.

Wow, get you a man like that, Lance has found a real gentleman here.

Lance snorts out a laugh and hides his face in his sweaty arms, feeling his vision start to fade as he drifts off to sleep, Keith’s tongue going back to cleaning him.

\--

Lance wakes to a mouthful of hair. He coughs and gags, shoving mercilessly at the heaping body on top of him, trying to catch his breath. With a low grumble, the weight on his chest stirs, shifting away just enough that Lance can scoot out from beneath it. He moves over, sitting on the far edge of the tattered and torn tent with his head in his hands.

It takes him a moment to wake up enough to understand what exactly is going on, to understand why he’s out in the wilderness and that the fur he’d been inhaling wasn’t Keith’s usual mullet. He looks to the side and startles slightly, seeing the monstrous beast from the night before stretched out beside him, asleep. It’s even bigger in the daylight.

His immediate reaction is to get up and run, but he swallows that down and stays. There’s nothing to run from now, is there? This is the other side and he made it out alive.

Keith is snoring, shifting around in his sleep and giving pained whines. He’s probably due to start shifting back soon, judging by the sun filtering down on them. Lance watches closely as Keith unconsciously seeks out his warmth, shifting in closer and throwing an arm into his lap. Lance looks down at it, at the long clawed fingers, and figures that must have been what was draped over him when he woke up.

Protecting him.

He reaches down ever so carefully, smoothing his pointer finger over the leathery bare hand, then the soft fur that leads down to it. He yelps when it moves, but it’s only to curl around his finger and hold it there, gripping loose enough that Lance could pull away if he wanted. He’s not so sure that he does.

Sure, Keith’s wolfsona isn’t straight out of the Twilight novels, and he’s nowhere near as cute as Kosmo… but it’s still Keith. That was one thing that Keith had repeated to him over and over again and until last night, Lance hadn’t really understood it. Now he thinks he might.

He gets up and goes about finding an outfit to cover his bare, dirty self up with. He doesn’t even want to know what half the stuff he has crusted to him is. He turns a blind eye and starts gathering up anything salvageable, even lighting a fire and throwing breakfast on. And eventually, a loud pleading whine draws his attention back to the tent.

He paces back over to where the living nightmare from the night before has managed to get himself tangled up in the tent rope, all while rolling around in his sleep. A heavy tail thuds against the ground as Lance kneels and starts to help him out, an exasperated sigh on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t get the chance to scold him though, forgetting he ever wanted to when Keith starts up those telltale cries again.

So Lance holds him instead. It’s a little awkward, lying down and trying to spoon a fuzzy creature a good four times your size, but Keith doesn’t complain. He does, however, decide that it isn’t quite enough contact and instead drags Lance up to sprawl overtop of him. Keith lies on his back, squirming around and clawing at the dirt, and Lance drapes himself across his chest.

He says things he thinks Keith might want to hear, even though he knows they won’t make it hurt any less. He has to do something though, anything he can.

“I love you”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’ll be over soon.”

“I know, I know it hurts.”

It’s sort of the weirdest intimate experience Lance has ever had with anyone. Especially when the pained howls turn back into human screams, but there’s not really a fully human face staring back at him. He’s gotta admit that part is still a little nightmare-y, no doubt about it.

Eventually though, when it starts to feel like it’s gonna drag on forever and Lance might never get his loving human boyfriend back… it stops.

Keith is underneath him with his usual face and his usual eyes, just a trembling naked boy staring wide-eyed back at him. He’s twitching with the aftershocks of the unimaginable pain he’s just gone through, but other than that it looks like it’s over. For another month, anyway.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Lance’s voice breaks on the pet name, he can’t help it. Keith blinks back at him, a slow and steady smile unwinding across his face. That’s all he offers in response, no hug and no words, so Lance figures maybe they aren’t out of the woods yet. He rolls off of Keith, giving him room to breath, to come down from whatever place he’s in right now.

It starts small, Keith’s hand inching across the space between them to find Lance’s. He curls their pinky fingers around one another. As time passes by, Keith regains feeling in his body or maybe the energy to move again, Lance isn’t sure. Sooner or later though, he stretches out like a cat and then rolls over on top of Lance with a yawn.

Lance dares to hope that that’s finally it. Keith hasn’t said a word to him yet and he’s getting antsy, as much as he loves a good morning cuddle. “Takes a while for you to be able to exist again, huh?”

Keith lifts his head slightly, staring back at Lance with just as much emotion. He swallows a few times and then clears his throat, his voice unmistakably hoarse from all the screaming. He does manage to speak this time though and it’s quiet and gentle, so different from a growl that Lance wants to cry with relief.

“You… stayed?” The disbelief is obvious.

“Yeah, the whole night.” Lance explains, reaching up to tuck Keith’s unruly hair behind his ears. Keith gives a lopsided little smile, catching his hand and nuzzling into his palm. “You don't remember it?”

“Not really.” Keith tilts his head to the side, curiosity flashing in those tired eyes. He leans in, sniffing at Lance’s collarbones and neck, an intrigued hum on his lips. It turns around pretty quick when he gets a whiff of whatever had caught his attention. He recoils rather suddenly, with eyebrows pinched together in confusion, one in particular edging toward his hairline in shock. “But I can certainly _smell_ some of it on you.”

“Well, okay, you’re really gonna come for my neck like that?” Lance jokes, squirming sheepishly beneath him. Keith isn’t having the joke though, is looking at him with total seriousness. If Lance thought he was disbelieving before, he’s got a thing or two coming. Keith is eyeing him now like this is all some kind of practical joke, like Lance bought werewolf jizz on ebay and smeared ‘er on for the lols.

“We… fucked?” Keith tries the words out on his tongue and he doesn’t look like he likes them.

“Listen, give me a second to explain before you dive right into kinkshaming-”

“We actually had sex? You know, while I wasn’t even really _human_ ?” Keith looks like he’s having his mind utterly blown right now and Lance shrinks in on himself, shoulders hiked up toward his neck. What’s he supposed to say in this very specific, very weird situation? It’s not like he can _deny_ it.

“I guess?”

“What the hell did I do to convince you to do something like that?”

“It was less convincing and more refusing to take no for an answer.” Lance offers, deciding to cover his own ass and pretend he didn’t let it happen. He realizes almost immediately that’s the wrong thing to say. Possibly the worst thing he could have said in that very moment. He watches the horror unfold across Keith’s face and scrambles to take it back. “Not like that. I didn't try to fight you off once the uh, sexual stuff started. I was kind of… into it.”

And okay, he hadn’t meant to just come out and admit it like that. He was gonna build up to it, wait until after a couple weeks after the full moon when Keith was calmer and then subtly bring it up in the bedroom, in the least confrontational way. People come out with weird kinks all the time, probably even weirder ones than wanting to get boned by a wolfman.

Somehow, the way Keith is staring at him right now doesn’t reassure him of that fact.

“Look, we’ll talk about whatever _that_ means later.” Keith says decisively, in a way that maybe implies he never wants to talk about it again. Predictable. “More importantly, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

It’s not a particularly complicated question, all he needs to give is a yes or no answer. Lance finds himself hesitating though, taking the time to really think. All morning he’d been moving around and going about his day, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind that he should probably be pretty sore right about now. Maybe the sheer satisfaction of playing out his deepest darkest secret kink has him so far up on cloud nine he didn’t even notice.

Except… no. There aren’t any visible cuts, no bruises where there definitely should be, and not to be crude but he did take a monster-sized dick last night and he doesn’t even really feel sore. He can remember how it hurt in the moment though, how he thought he was gonna die for a good minute or two, and snorts out a laugh.

“Well, I got very familiar with some wolf anatomy that I don't want to talk about.” Lance says, not making eye contact because like hell he’s going to elaborate if Keith doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The way that Keith turns his head to look away though, that tells him that maybe Keith’s more aware of it than he thought. File that away for the conversation they’ll be having later (because Lance _is_ gonna make sure it happens, damn it).

“Um, is that all?”

“And you chomped down on my neck when you came, but it must not have been as deep as I thought because it isn’t bothering me today?” Lance reaches up as he speaks, fingers tracing across his neck where the bite is. It catches him a bit off guard when he doesn’t feel anything there. He switches to the other side, just in case he got confused in the heat of the moment. He doesn’t feel anything there either, but he’s sure it was toward the front near his throat, there are only so many places a jaw of that width can even fit so-

“Lance…” Lance’s thoughts freeze. Keith doesn’t sound right. He sounds like he’s in pain again, voice high and panicked, fear-stricken. Lance forgets about the dumb bite and sits up, trying to figure out what’s happening with his boyfriend first and foremost. Was there some kind of finale to the transformation that he was unaware of? Why’s Keith looking like he’s gonna cry again?

“What’s wrong?” Lance asks, urgency seeping into the words no matter how lowkey he tries to be about his worry. Keith is just staring at him, this blank and hollow expression, completely void of emotion. It’s so much worse than the crying, than even the screaming. The amount of nothing reflected back at him in Keith’s pupils is more unsettling than any of the things he’s seen. What does that mean? Is he okay?

“There's no bite on your neck.” Keith says finally, like he’s admitting to murder. Lance scrunches his face up, giving a few awkward laughs because what kind of prank is he trying to pull? All of that build-up and for what, that poorly delivered line that made no sense? Lance was there, thank-you very much, he was more present than Keith and he _knows_ he was bitten.

“Uh, like hell there isn't! It hurt like a buttcheek on a stick when those teeth of yours-" It clicks.

He’s a little late and the realization knocks the wind out of him, but it clicks into place and _stays there_.

Lance thinks back on the past week, all the ups and downs, the highs and lows. He thinks of the fights and the food and the fucking. He thinks of the desperation in Keith’s eyes through it all, an itch he can’t scratch, a constant dread that looms over him the whole month.

Lance thinks of last night, of Keith crying in his arms, shaking with fear for what’s coming. The misery had been plain as day to see, the utter hatred for who he is and what he has to go through because of it. And the screams. Oh, those were the worst. Agonized, tortured, raw screams. Pain so unbearable that crawls into your skin and makes a home out of it, mocking your tears.

And that’s… what he has to look forward to next month.

You know, when he turns into a werewolf too.

“Oh.” Lance squeaks. He shoves Keith off of him with little care. He doesn’t mean to be rough, he’s not purposely vengeful, he’s just pretty sure he won’t be able to keep his breakfast down. He doubles over against a nearby tree and just clings to it, his head spinning. He hugs onto the trunk for support, clinging to it with all he has, like maybe if he just stays right there time won’t pass. But he knows it is. Knows that every second he’s getting a second closer. A minute closer. Soon it’ll be an hour closer.

Every single month.

He hears Keith approaching before he sees him, before he feels the most hesitant hand ever settle in the middle of his back. It rubs in circles, but it’s no use. Lance can’t be soothed right now.

“I am _so_ sorry.” Keith apologizes, choking it out even as the words start to dissolve into a whimper. Lance glances up at him. He’s crying, Lance notes distantly. He’s crying a lot, big wet sloppy tears that streak down his cheeks and land on Lance’s back. Any other time, Lance would care. He’d care so much. He always puts others before himself, always. It’s what he does. He cares too much.

But right now… he can’t. He can’t speak, can’t think, can barely even breathe. And he doesn’t care, at all.

“There aren’t even words to explain _how_ sorry I am. This is my greatest fear, I’m living my nightmare right this second. I’m disgusted with myself. You have to understand I would never ever want this for you, not in a million years. I will _never_ forgive myself for this as long as I live, I promise you that. I will do every single thing I can to try and make this right by you. Whatever you need or want, I’ll give it to you. I’ll-”

Keith is still rattling on next to him, like for every word Lance’s had stolen from his mouth, Keith has gained a hundred more. He has so much to say. He’s trying so hard to make Lance understand, but he doesn’t realize that Lance already _does_. Lance knows it was an accident, that Keith would never do it on purpose, knows that one split second mistake sent the whole Jenga tower crumbling down. He gets it. He does.

But sorry and forgiveness don’t take it back, it’s too late for that. This is his reality now whether Keith meant for it to be or not. He’s stuck like this forever. And even if Keith keeps talking for the next week nonstop, constant apologies and promises and forgiveness, it’ll be the same.

So, forgive him for not really listening right now.

“I need to… lie down.” Lance turns away, walking robotically to the car. He hears a flash of movement behind him and he boils over, whipping around to where Keith is trying to sneakily follow behind, no doubt worried for him. Lance grabs a pinecone and biffs it at him. “And I want to do it _alone_!”

\--

When Lance wakes up from a nightmare to darkness all around him, he thinks he might be dead. He throws his arms out blindly, smacking his wrist off the car door in the process. Now knowing that he’s not in fact dead and is instead just an idiot, he flicks on the overhead light. He breathes a sigh of relief to see himself in the mirror, looking like a person and nothing else.

Reassured that he’s safe, he searches around for his phone. He’s expecting a slew of worried texts from Keith asking where he’s been the past _nearly seven hours_ , but there’s only one.

_Walked home. - K_

Two words. That’s all Lance is worth to him right now. He’s had an entire day of loneliness and self-reflection to find the perfect thing to say, and that’s what he comes up with. Sure, Lance knows he might have been a bit hasty storming out of there and leaving Keith in the woods, but he was in a pretty awful situation himself. How dare Keith hold that against him?! It’s his fault!

Lance sighs, slumping forward until his forehead can rest on the steering wheel.

He doesn’t _really_ think that, as easy as it would be to. It’s not Keith’s fault, none of this is. He couldn’t control himself, no one could have predicted that. He even tried to warn Lance in time, fighting every part of himself that wanted nothing more than to just beg Lance to stay and support him. He did everything he could to stop it from happening. There’s no way he wanted this.

If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Lance’s. He was the one who had every chance to say no, to refuse to go with Keith to the woods altogether, but he didn’t. He looked fear in the eyes and asked it to do its worst. And it did, calling him out on his bluff.

So, no, it isn’t Keith’s fault that he’s now a werewolf. As terrifying as the whole idea is, and as much as he desperately wants to take his fears out in frustration, he knows that Keith deserves better than that. _He’s_ been fighting this for their entire relationship and he’s never been so toxic as to take it out on Lance. It’s wrong, plain and simple, and getting mad won’t solve a damn thing.

On the contrary, Lance _can_ very much be mad about Keith’s lackluster response to the whole thing. In the moment Lance needed him most, he up and vanished. And it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but Lance had just started to believe recently that it wouldn’t be like that this time. Keith was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be there for Lance the same way Lance has always been there for him, no matter the risk and no matter the cost. He was supposed to feel the same.

Keith is honest. A good guy. He gives just as much as he takes.

And he loves Lance. Really loves him.

It’s not supposed to be _like this_ . Him, alone, feeling like the carpet has been pulled out from under his feet the second he allows himself to step down on it. He’s been here so many times before, picked himself up and brushed the dirt off, forced himself to go on with his life alone. It’s just, right now? He really needs someone to lean on. He’s not sure he _can_ do this alone.

\--

Lance pulls into his driveway late that night, his irritation only building with the long drive home. It doesn’t help that the first thing he sees is his own front porch light flickering on, a familiar face stepping out into the night to greet him. Lance debates staying exactly where he is and locking the doors on his car, just completely refusing to speak to Keith. Lance doesn’t know what he’s doing here and his mind’s jumping to conclusions.

He’d kinda been hoping that Keith would rip another page out of the age old book and just break up with him over text. At the very least, he could have waited a day or two to end things, Lance is feeling pretty touchy right now and he’s not sure he wants to add to that.

He climbs out of the car, stomping around to the trunk to try and grab his bags out. He pauses though, hearing the soft breathing behind him. Keith is watching him in silence, trying to gauge what kind of mood he’s in. Who is Lance to deny him of that so-desired information?

“Hey, asshole.” Lance snaps, angry in a way he’s never allowed himself to be. People hardly tolerated him when he was on his best behavior, why would he show them the worst of him? But he’s scared right now and he doesn’t know how else to hide it. He can feel things falling apart, slipping between his fingers, and no matter what he does he can’t stop it from happening.

“Hi.” Keith’s voice is even, perfectly balanced to not show a single emotion. Something about it just irks Lance like nothing else. How dare he stand there and show off how unaffected he is by all of this, so unbothered he’s standing there like a robot while Lance is visibly falling apart.

“Anyone ever tell you that it's rude to leave someone alone in the woods while they're having a panic attack? Or is that just the normal etiquette where you’re from?” It’s a particularly low blow, Keith has opened up to him more than a few times about his stunted social skills from never being the kid who stayed in one place too long. And as soon as Lance says it, he regrets it.

“Don't worry about that. I'll get it later. Let’s go inside.” Keith says quickly, stepping forward and pulling Lance’s hand away from his bag. Lance stares down at where their fingers thread so naturally together and he panics, thinking of how this might be the last time he gets to feel it.

“Don’t touch me!” Lance says firmly, snatching his hand away. Keith freezes, looking at him with wide eyes, like he’s uncertain on what his next move should even be. Lance tucks his hand deep down into his pocket, determined not to feel the warmth of Keith’s that lingers even after he’s gone. “I need space.”

“I understand.”

He marches ahead of Keith, deciding that he really doesn’t need to listen to this right now. He walks in and shrugs his coat off, turning into the living room and-

“What's all this?” Lance asks, looking around. The room is dim, alight with candles on every surface. A quick glimpse around and Lance sees all the mess that’d accumulated during the full moon week has been cleaned for him, replaced by gifts in the places that were the most dirty. Chocolate seems to be a recurring theme. Lance scrunches his eyebrows together.

Keith bustles past him into the room, throwing his arms up at the not so surprise.

“You take such good care of me, I thought it was time I do the same for you!” Keith shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking around awkwardly. When Lance doesn’t say anything in response, Keith grabs a bottle of wine from the coffee table and pours a glass for Lance.

Lance accepts it, but he doesn’t drink. He just stares at the dark liquid sloshing around in the glass, unsure what to make of it. What is this? A pity party?

“You’re _taking care_ of me? Do you think I’m helpless just because you turned me? That I can’t survive on my own or something? I can-”

“I know you can!” Keith interjects loudly, stumbling closer. He stops a step away though, holding himself back by the looks of it. Lance squints at him. “I, um, I’m not good at this stuff. You know, pampering people. I tried to think of stuff you like and stuff you do for me. It’s not as easy as you make it look. I’m sorry if it’s not that good. I’ll do better next time.”

“Next time?” Lance mutters under his breath. This is new. None of his fights have ever ended in something like this, and yet it gives him a sense of deja vu he can’t shake. He just needs to know what it means, what Keith is hoping to achieve here, if this is a goodbye still. “Keith, I appreciate it, but-”

“You need space, I know.” Keith nods, sitting down on the edge of the couch. Lance watches him curiously, the way he fidgets around, hands never staying still for a second. He looks around, anywhere but at Lance, like the thought of eye contact is unbearable.

His hands are trembling in his lap as he struggles to find words, starting and stopping again, glancing up intermittently to make sure Lance is still listening. “Originally I was just gonna leave notes so you didn't even have to look at me, but you came home earlier than I thought you would. I’m sorry.”

“Where else would I go? This is _my_ house.”

“I know, I just thought you might go to Hunk’s or something. Sorry.”

“Jesus, stop apologizing.”  Lance sighs, setting his glass down on the table. His head hurts and he’s exhausted after all the panic he’s endured, despite sleeping the whole day long it still makes his eyelids feel heavy. He doesn’t have time for whatever game Keith is trying to play right now.

“Okay, s-” Keith stops himself this time, flashing a smile at Lance instead. “Um, just follow the roses. I know it’s cheesy, but I did it ironically, I swear. I bought you some stuff and laid it out on your bed, so you can choose whatever products you wanna use while I draw a bath for you. Then I'll finish cleaning up and order dinner while you're in there. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“What are you doing, Keith?”

“Whatever makes you happy.” Keith answers simply, his voice genuine like it should have been obvious already. Maybe it was, but Lance had trouble seeing it for what it was, predisposed to expect the worst and to prepare himself for it in advance. He thinks it over, rolls the words over in his mind, and realizes why he recognizes them.

_Whatever makes you happy._

The deja vu makes sense all of the sudden. It’s not that he hasn’t done this before, but he’s never looked at it from this angle. He’s usually in Keith’s position right now, dedicating every bit of himself to trying to make someone stay, giving up anything he can to convince them he’s worth it. He’s the one ready to have his heartbroken. The one who cares more.

For once in Lance’s life, he isn’t the one begging someone not to leave, _he’s the one being begged_.

“Wait a minute, I think I know what this is.”

“What… what is?”

“Are you trying to convince me not to break-up with you right now?” Lance laughs as he says it, so surprised to find himself in this position. Laughing is the wrong thing to do though, Keith winces like his heart has been stomped on, his head hanging between his shoulders in resignation. He really thinks… he’s _convinced_ … he spent this whole day waiting for Lance to come home and break up with _him_.

“Lance. If that’s what you want, I’ll be gone by the time you get out of the bath.” Keith whispers, fingers toying with the loose threads on his jeans. He swallows harshly, eyes shining as he reluctantly looks back up at Lance and forces another grin. “I’ll leave for the night… or forever, whichever you want.”

“Damn it, Keith.” Lance can feel every bit of anger leaving him in one tornado of emotion. He’s never been standing here, having someone _cry_ over him. It’s hard to watch, especially when he’s still so very in love with Keith, doesn’t want him to hurt like this. “Is that what _you_ want? To leave?”

“Of course not!” Keith snaps back, swiping his sleeves across his face and inhaling deeply. He’s trying to suck it up, pretend he isn’t on the verge of a breakdown and he’ll be fine no matter what Lance says. It’s obvious, Lance has done it a hundred times over. “Is that what _you_ want me to want?”

“Just say what you mean, you gay disaster.” Lance sighs, walking over and sitting next to Keith on the couch, settling a hand on his knee. Keith goes impossibly still, staring at the hand touching him and trying to decipher what it means, like it holds the secrets of the universe. He’s holding his breath, waiting for Lance to deal the finishing blow that just isn’t gonna come.

“Do you hate me now? For fucking your life up?” Keith asks finally, after the seconds span into a minute or more. Lance turns to him, waiting patiently until Keith works up the nerve to look him in the eye as he speaks. Lance can tell it’s hard for him, vulnerable as he is right now, so he squeezes his knee in reassurance.

“No, I don’t hate you.” Lance whispers, leaning in to peck him on the lips. “Not even a little bit.”

“R-Really?”

“Really.”

“You should hate me... after what I did.”

“That's not your call to make.” Lance says simply, shaking his head. He won’t stand for another second of seeing Keith look so self-deprecating, so genuinely angry at himself. Lance forgives him already, now he just has to forgive himself. It’ll be a process though, Lance is sure of it. They’ve got challenges ahead of them yet when he turns for the first time next month. Keith is gonna be worried sick.

But they’ll make it work.

“So, we’re not breaking-up?” Keith asks suddenly, like it only now occurred to him that that’s what Lance is saying. Lance laughs fondly and nods at him, smiling so hard he feels like he’s never been happier in his life. He’s in a position where he can say what he always wanted someone to tell him in the past and damn if he’s going to take it for granted, because he _means_ it.

He’s not desperately trying to piece a crumbling relationship back together, begging for something to work when it just isn’t meant to. The love Lance feels is just as strong and true as what’s reflected back at him in Keith’s eyes. They feel the same. They both want this.

“Keith, I am _so_ fucking in love with you. The weird supernatural bullshit didn’t scare me away before and it’s not gonna start now. As long as you want me, I’m yours.” And Keith, he positively sags with relief. He falls into Lance’s side with a dry sob, sniffling into his shirt. Lance shushes him gently, cradles his head and lets him cry it out on his shoulder. It’s been a long day for both of them.

“I don’t know why I did it.” Keith mumbles tiredly, finding Lance’s neck and kissing across it, somehow exactly where he’d bitten the night before. “Even as a wolf, I know I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t think you saw it as hurting me.” Lance whispers back, carding his fingers through Keith’s hair distractedly. He’s put a lot of thought into this though, it’s been on his mind all day long since the realization and he thinks he understands now.

“Well, obviously it did.”

“Yes, but I think, on an instinctual level, you just didn’t want to be alone with it anymore. Having me with you made it easier so your wolf brain thought… how can we make sure he’s always here? It wasn’t about inflicting damage or making more of your own kind for the heck of it, and it wasn’t a sex-crazed moment of weakness. I do believe that you’re still you, even as a wolf.” Lance hesitates. “You still loved me, yes, but that was the _problem_.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, Keith, how many times are you gonna say it?” Lance laughs, playfully clapping him on the back to lighten the mood. He gets to his feet, holding his hands out for Keith to take. Keith does, though he looks wary as Lance drags him out of the room. “Now, come and get in this stupidly small tub with me and wash me while I lay on you. I'm exhausted and you made most of this mess anyway.”

“Disgusting.” Keith mutters, looking Lance over.

“Tell me about it.” Lance groans, tearing clothes off as he goes. “Next full moon is gonna be fun, huh?”

“So much sex. So much.” Keith groans aloud, and it’s kind of hard to figure out whether he’s expressing excitement or dread. Maybe Lance is being naive, or it’s just his usual kinkiness coupled with his new and improved werewolf horniness, but he’s kind-of looking forward to it. Nobody can shame him for wanting to fuck monsters when he is one, right?

“Hopefully I'm like a submissive wolf and we don't have to battle it out for who gets to fuck who.” Lance ponders aloud, later, as he dips a toe into the bath water. Keith is already in, head tipped back and eyes closed, basking in all the expensive bath supplies he blew his money on in Lance’s honor. He cracks an eye open at the topic though, smirking the slightest bit.

Lance notices and kicks some water at his face. “Then again, I might get some sick _satisfaction_ out of putting you in your place now. Maybe it’s time someone showed you who’s top dog around here, huh?”

“Stop.” Keith growls out, his voice holding a warning. Lance isn’t sure if it’s for the puns or for the suggestive tone, but he’s wholly certain he won’t be stopping either. Keith will just have to suck it up.

\-- BONUS --

Later that night, Lance find himself lying awake in bed. Keith is curled protectively around him, snoring peacefully away, but Lance can’t sleep. He can’t even bring himself to move, to close his eyes, to do anything at all. He’s been frozen there for the past hour listening to a sick ripping noise. He’s not sure if it’s in his head, if he has some sort of sleep paralysis from the nightmares, but it feels real.

“Keith?” He whispers, eventually. Keith stirs next to him, bellowing out a yawn. Lance reaches down under the covers, finding Keith’s hand and digging his nails into it. “What’s that noise?”

The house grows quiet as they both hold their breaths. They listen closely, but suddenly the noise has stopped. There’s no sign it was ever there in the first place. Lance feels stupid, and Keith is giving him this concerned look like maybe he is having more trouble coming to terms with his reality than he thinks.

“I don’t know? Probably a squirrel.” Keith dismisses, deciding to just let it go for now. He plops back into the pillows and makes himself comfortable. Lance glares at him, pulling the covers up around his eyes.

A few minutes pass and he hears it again.

“I’m gonna go check it out.” He says decisively, sitting up in bed. His bare feet swing over the edge of the mattress and he gets up, padding quietly out of the room. He doesn’t want to wake his boyfriend again if it’s over nothing.

He creeps down the hallway, holding his breath as he grows closer to the source of the noise with each step he takes. Out here it’s louder, echoing around the living room in a way that can’t be fake. Lance gulps, ever so slowly peeking around the corner.

At first, he isn’t sure what he’s looking at. It looks like someone tore the roof off his house and snow fell all over the floor, but that isn’t it. He looks closer and realizes it’s only stuffing. Stuffing from the brand new and nice couch he’d bought just this year! Ripped to shreds!

He screams. “Keith! There’s something in the house, come quick!”

Keith is out of bed like a light, feet thundering down the hallway so fast he nearly crashes into Lance when he skids to an abrupt stop behind him. He’s panting, shirtless with hair sticking up in every which direction, but he looks like he’s gonna take Lance seriously now at least.

“What?! Are you okay, I-” Lance reaches up and claps a hand over his mouth, silencing him. He points toward the corner then and Keith leans around it. His eyes widen when he sees what Lance had seen and he ducks back, huddling in close to Lance and whispering conspiratorially.

They both say it at the same time.

“It’s that bear that tears up people’s furniture from the news!” Their eyes are blown wide with fear, reaching the same conclusion so quickly there’s no denying that must be what it is. Sure, Lance had his suspicions that bear might have been Keith, but now he knows better. No werewolf would show up the night _after_ a full moon. It’s definitely some sort of wild animal. It probably got in through the window Keith never finished fixing. Lance is starting to freak out.

“Keith. Why couldn’t this happen before the full moon? We’re helpless right now.” He whines, rubbing at his eyes. Keith hugs him close, leading him back toward the bedroom where he’ll be safe. Lance debates trying to argue that he doesn’t need to be whisked off to safety, that he’s got some werewolf strength of his own brewing now. But in reality, he doesn’t really want to walk toward the danger. He’s had his fair share of that over the past twenty-four hours, thank-you.

They’re nearly there when they hear it. Heavy, thudding, intimidating footsteps. They both freeze, gripping at each other’s hands as they register the approaching threat. They turn around slowly, Keith’s free hand darting out to grab an ugly vase and Lance’s raising into a martial arts pose he saw on tv once.

Neither of them get to use their weapons of choice.

“Kosmo?!” They shout in unison, followed by Lance’s favorite family heirloom vase shattering against the ground when Keith drops it. The vase splinters off in every direction, and Kosmo eyes it before effortlessly jumping over the mess and pawing at their legs instead. She whines, begging to be picked up like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

Keith and Lance turn to face each other, both looking equally confused.

“How did she get in here?” Keith asks, whispering the next part under his breath like the dog might overhear him. Lance thinks he’s being a little over-dramatic, though she _is_ watching them with the most focused eyes he’s ever seen on an animal. “Lance, I saw the window in the living room and nothing broke through the boards. There’s no other way in unless she opened the locked front door.”

Lance is listening to what Keith’s saying until he suddenly isn’t. He bends over, picking the puppy up into his arms and letting her lick all over his face. She seems so happy to see him, like she’d been _sad the whole time they were gone, all alone in that cold and cruel kennel at the vet’s office_ -

Lance blinks.

“Did you even pick her up from the vets?!” Lance hisses back, slapping Keith’s chest in realization. That was the one thing they had to remember to do today! It was more important than anything else! They had a life depending on them now!

“No! I had a lot on my mind!”

“A lot on your mind?” Lance repeats, his voice taking on a mocking tone. In his arms, Kosmo happily lolls her tongue out, as if grinning at Keith being lectured on her behalf. “Oh, you poor thing, thought your boyfriend was gonna dump you? I had my humanity stolen from me and got _fucked_ by a _beast_ four times the size of me! So you can shove it right up your _ass_.”

“The vets would have held her another night, it’s not a big deal.” Keith huffs. Kosmo’s eyes seem to narrow at that, into angry little slits. A tiny baby growl even bounces around inside her chest, more adorable than it is intimidating. Lance’s heart melts.

“Not a big deal?!” He repeats, turning back to the puppy in his arms. She’s whining, looking up at him with those sad big eyes and ears drooping on either side of her head. It’s the saddest display he’s ever seen and he feels an immediate bond with her, an urge to protect her. “Look at her, I’m pretty sure she’s traumatized! She had to bust out of the big house to come and find us, Keith.”

“Yeah, I still have a lot of questions about that actually, how the hell did she get here?”

“You’re on awfully thin fucking ice, Kogane.” Lance mutters, poking a finger into his chest. “If you’re the type of dad who forgets his kids at daycare then you can forget us having a future together.”

“What happened to not spoiling the dog?”

“I’m not spoiling, I’m comforting her after a traumatic experience.” Lance calls over his shoulder, walking into the bedroom and setting her down on the bed. She cuddles up immediately, even digging the blankets into a perfect nest shape and settling down right in the middle. For a young stray, she seems pretty familiar with living inside a house, which _is_ weird. But Lance isn’t about to agree with Keith.

“She ate your couch, Lance. A tiny puppy tore open a whole couch.” Keith points out, shrugging his shoulders as he climbs under the covers again. Lance settles on the other side of the bed and rolls over to face him, their heads inches away on the same pillow as they talk. Between their bodies, Kosmo has already flopped over onto her back, legs sticking up in every direction.

“So? She’s probably teething.”

“Not to mention, she has no bandages on her. She just got out of surgery, Lance, why does she seem perfectly healthy? Something really isn’t adding up here.” Keith whispers, eyes darting toward the sleeping animal. As if sensing his gaze, she cracks open a single eye to stare back. She tilts her head to the side curiously at the attention, rolling over onto her belly and scooching closer until she’s resting on the pillow next to them, kissing their faces.

Lance giggles, pushing her away.

“I don’t know, maybe she’s magic.”

“Magic, Lance? Really?” Keith groans, but Lance has pushed the dog into his arms and he has no choice now but to hug it. As suspicious as the circumstances are, he is glad she’s here, after all. She cuddles up against his chest, tail wagging happily. “Why aren’t you more weirded out by this?”

Lance rolls his eyes before pulling his sleep mask down over them.

“You of all people should know the amount of weird I’m willing to put up with for those I love.”

A few minutes pass by in silence. Lance is definitely asleep and Keith is getting there, his eyes drooping shut every few seconds only to dart open again. He feels this odd compelling urge to stay awake. It’s tangible, thumping in his chest and promising him that it’ll pay off if he just fights off sleep a little bit longer. But Kosmo has the cutest puppy snore and she’s so warm against his chest, _he wants nothing more to pass out_. He yawns, eyes dropping closed a final time.

He wakes up a moment later, some specific instinct inside of him jerking him out of sleep. He bolts upright in bed like he’s waking from a nightmare, and immediately makes eye contact with Kosmo. She’s sitting at the edge of the bed staring at him, tail wagging innocently. He stares back, breathing heavily.

For a moment there it almost looked like her fur was glowing in the dark, the strangest shade of blue.

This is weird. This is weird and he’s pretty sure this is all a nightmare. Maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow only to find all of this has been one big full moon delusion, that he didn’t turn Lance and he doesn’t have a demonic dog in his bed right now and-

Kosmo paces closer to him, nosing her way into the palm of his hand and licking it. He stares down at her, biting his lip as those black eyes stare back at him. It’s almost as if she’s saying _not to be afraid, to trust her, that she means no harm_. Keith gulps, nodding at her.

He’s not sure what to make of this, so he reaches over to pat his boyfriend on the chest. Lance yawns, pulling the mask halfway up his face to squint at Keith in the darkness.

“Whaddaya want?”

“I’ve never really been around any wolves before, like normal wolves. I don’t have anything to compare it to, so what if I _can’t_ talk to wolves and it _isn’t_ a werewolf thing how I sensed her that night? What if it’s just her and she’s the one communicating with us?” Keith rattles off the points a little bit hysterically, but he hopes they come across anyway. He knows he sounds like he’s going off on one of his tangents when he’s been stress marathoning conspiracy theories or cryptid shows, but this is different.

Each time he glances back at Kosmo and finds her already staring, a sense of understanding in her eyes that he’s never seen in an animal… he knows she’s special. And no, he isn’t just preparing for his new life as a crazy dog parent as Lance would probably have him believe. She’s not special like _that_ , she’s nothing like any other dog he’s ever met. It’s like she’s as smart as him, maybe smarter.

“Are you saying you think she’s magic?” Lance answers, a smirk audible in his voice. Keith reaches over to pinch his nipple under the covers. This earns him a cold foot rubbing up against his calves, leeching his warmth right from his body. “Okay, not magic, then what? What’s your theory?”

“Do you think she could be... an alien?”

“Are you high? Go to sleep.”

 

Sometimes a family is two werewolf boyfriends and their dog from outer space.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, *pulls collar out*, waddup my name's Kali, I'm 21, and I never fuckin learned how to not wanna fuck werewolves. 
> 
> I hope everyone liked that!! It was only meant to be a short pwp thing but you know how it is. There's the potential for a sequel and there's definitely potential for me to write more monster content if anyone wants to see it. Or if no one wants to see it. Fuck you, you can't stop me.
> 
> This is monsterfuckers anonymous, feel free to share your stories in the comments below, what monster do YOU wanna fuck? (also feel free to comment about the fic itself too fgjkgfhfjkgf)
> 
> https://twitter.com/MelancholyMango  
> http://melancholymango.tumblr.com  
> http://miscreantmango.tumblr.com (nsfw blog, 99% klance)


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